The Impossible
by FreyaHamilton
Summary: Three Worlds, Three Girls, And One Wish That Started It All. What will become of the underground?
1. Spirit

She froze, sitting on the bed with his arms encircling her waist. She hadn't thought he'd do it... not really. "Well... I've changed my mind.." she murmured, deciding to get up, but the Goblin king stood with her.

"I thought you wanted to see how I'd react." He hissed in her ear, pulling her gently against him, gliding his palms from the flat of her stomach to her hands as he placed a small kiss on the back of the base of her neck.

"It's a little obvious you will, now," She responded softly. She could feel herself beginning to shake and the heat that stemmed from her face found its way down her chest to the rest of her.

He smirked, and, still holding her hands, brought them to her stomach, "Don't you want to know -how- I'll do it, my pet? How," he kissed the same place on her neck again, "Close to my... prediction it will be?" He felt her head tilt backwards slightly against him, and brought his lips to her ear, "You don't have to be afraid anymore..." He whispered.

**The Impossible**

Tara Elliot had never felt so alone in her entire life. Even though her beloved niece was asleep not a foot away from her hand, the loneliness almost overwelmed her. She brought a shaking hand to the unusual warmth on her forehead, and winced as she touched the wound... in her brothers rage he had slammed the door in her face, mistakingly forcing the metal into the whole left side of her head, though only a small spot on her forehead had actually begun to bleed. She didn't mind, really. She was used to being caught in the arguments around the house, and there were plenty. Her mother and her brothers girlfriend, her brother and his girlfriend... everything seemed to come off of the girlfriend. She would probably hate her if it weren't for the child she created.

For the moment the door to her room was locked. The child, for whoms safety Tara was concerned, had slept through this argument in general peace so far, something she was glad for. Being sixteen she could safely say that she could handle the screaming, and the beating, and even the lonliness was something she could adjust to, but a six year old was far less resiliant.

"Well fine!" She heard the familiar voice of the girlfriend shout, slamming the door.

"Fine!" Her brothers voice echoed, slamming a seperate door.

Vaguely, Tara wondered who had left as she listened to a car start and screech out of the driveway. She looked down at the child, and sighed. Most likely the girlfriend. Her brother left last time. This had been going on for the past year or so, and the person leaving tended to alternate. They probably had a system of sorts to determine which one.

She didn't bother wondering what the argument was about this time. It was never anything important, or even -interesting- for that matter...

She groaned, holding her head and standing from the bed to enter her bathroom (she had the main bedroom because there was another bedroom that was bigger). Looking in the mirror, she sighed at the wound, and twisted on the water. She soaked a cloth under it, and, wincing, she put it to her forehead.

"I wish the Goblin King or whatever comes and gets me the hell out of here... right now..." She grumbled.

She went to sleep with her arms wound around her niece protectively, having absolutely no clue of the importance of what she had just said.

Chapter One

Morning Comes

"Master! Master!" A small goblin cried as it rushed around the castle, a much larger goblin with the six year old cradled in his arms trailing behind it. "Mas-!" It stopped and fell backwards as none other than the Goblin king materialized before him, looking as irritable as always, and a little headachy.

"Yes?" He snarled, strolling past it to examine the child with narrowed eyes, his gloved hand cupping his chin in thought.

"The girl! Master, she wished herself away like you said she would, sir!" the tiny one piped, beginning to run circles around the three. "But, but, but she wouldn't let go of the kid, sir! We had to take them both, sir!"

Jareth looked over at it in irritation. "Stop that incessant prattle, Snoghorn." He scolded, not giving it a chance to correct his pronunciation of his name before he continued, "Are you telling me that a legion of my strongest goblins could not dislodge a child from her aunts embrace!" It wasn't that he minded of course... another goblin to his kingdom was another person to obey him, but if the child hadn't been wished away problems could arise.

The goblin thought this over for a moment before deciding it sounded about right. He nodded, "Uh huh, uh huh!"

The king rubbed his temples at this, and began strolling back toward his throne room. He glanced over his shoulder, "Stoghem,"

"Stongblende, sir,"

"Of course it is, Stoghem." Jareth waved his interuption aside, "Is there someone on the above ground who would be likely to wish the child away? A... reletive, perhaps?"

"Oh no, master," the goblin stated, "She's a very loved child, unlike that one there."

"No one stupid enough to not notice they were doing it?" Jareth pried.

The goblin stopped and went silent, thinking, before rushing after its master, having just realized he hadn't stopped with it. "Perhaps, master, her mother... both of her parents, in fact." The poor little goblin had to run at top speed to catch up to its king, nevermind to -keep- up with him...

"I'll pay her a little visit then." Jareth smirked down at the child in the big goblins arms, "This one's too precious to let go." He laughed a little, as if it was all a joke.

"What, what kind've goblin you gonna turn her into, master? You know I've been awfully loyal, master, and, and, I don't have a wife yet.." He recoiled a pace as Jareth sent a disgusted glare at him. "N-n-n-not that I'm complaining, master, sir, I'm simply reminding you that--"

"That's enough, Stoghenge." He snarled, looking back at the child, "This one.. you say the girl wouldn't let her go? Well.. we'll let her decide then, shall we?" He smirked cruelly and laughed.

Tara slept longer than she had in a good long time. It may have had something to do with the spell the king of the goblins may or may not have cast upon her, but it was more likely the sleep deprivation catching up to her without an alarm clock to wake her up.

When she -did- wake up, however, it took her a moment to notice that something was wrong. She'd dreampt of a room much like the one she was in now, and so she expected to see it when she awoke. However, when reality hit her, by the window, she let out a shrill scriech.

"The girls up." Stogblende stated casually as it reached his ears.

Since Jareth was out for the moment, speaking with the childs mother, it was therefor Snogblende's job to introduce the new comer to the Labyrinth. He didn't know why his master had watched this one so carefully, had tweaked just a few things so she would turn to him rather than suicide. She was too old to be made into a goblin, too young to be a useful slave. The only thing he could think of was that his master was fond of her voice... she was utterly useless for anything else.

As he bounced into her room he couldn't help but grin as she backed away from the door, and into a corner, staring at him as if he were some sort of monster.

"What -are- you!" She cried, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.

He bent over to her in his hyperactive way. "Stogblende, madame," As things were for the moment she was a guest of the kings. No one had told him otherwise, and guests were to be treated with respect. "I'm a goblin."

"You've got to be kidding me.." Tara groaned, putting both hands to her head. "I know-- this is a dream. This is all a dream and I'll wake up with my brother screaming, and slamming doors, and-- OW!" She'd touched the wound from before, and it stung like hell. It came to her mind that one couldn't feel in dreams, and she collapsed on the floor. "...wonderful."

"Please don't worry, madame," The little goblin rushed over to her, "You've no reason to be frightened yet! The king is out and--"  
Suddenly something occured to her. "Where's Xanthe!"

He blinked, "...Xanthe? Oh, the girl!"

Tara nodded, "Yes, where is she!" She rose to her feet, a dark shadow falling over her pale face.

For a moment the goblin saw what may have attracted his king to this mortal. She had spirit, that was undeniable, and rage brought out a beauty in her that no fae in the kingdom could even contemplate harnessing. Her hair was a raven color, and curly, coming to her mid waist, but her skin was painfully pale.. something that wouldn't be changing with her time in the underground.. and her eyes-- they were such a vibrant, pure green that he thought even he could see forever within them. There were many a fae who would take her as their own slave and take delight in breaking her spirit down. He hoped his king knew what he was doing. He rather liked this mortal, regardless of her disgust upon seeing his small, warted figure. He could hardly blame her for that. She'd get used to him.

"Stogblende..." She growled.

"She is safe." He stated, liking her all the more for getting his name right the first time. "The master is working on making sure she can stay. If we have our way you two shouldn't have to part..." As she fell silent he took a chance on coming closer to her again, "Please don't fret, m'lady, everything's going to be alright..."

Becoming accustomed to the numerous pimples and warts and the like was easier than Tara had expected, and she even found herself thinking of the thing as a friend quicker than she had thought of any human on the above ground before. "Where am I, Stogblende?"

"In the Underground, m'lady."

"Yes.." Tara murmured, "But why? What exactly led to this--" She trailed off. The words in the bathroom. She groaned, "I didn't -mean- it..."

"Most don't, m'lady."

She didn't respond. As much as she wanted to claim that she didn't mean it, she -had- meant it. She'd meant it so much more than she was willing to admit for the moment.

"Snoghorn!" a voice cut through the air, so loudly that Tara winced, and the goblin jumped.

"Stogblende, sir.."

"Whatever."

The king of the goblins strolled through the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked first the goblin over, and then Tara over. "Leave us." He snarled, his gaze snapping to Stogblende. The tone made Tara rocket to her feet should a fight arise. She'd be damned if she was just gonna sit there.

She sent Stogblende a look of slight apology as he scurried out the door in terror, but the look vanished the moment she laid eyes on Jareth. 'She had spirit' was a vast understatement, as Jareth found to his satisfaction. He had made a good catch. He easily stood over her as she stalked toward him, so they were no more than a foot apart.

"Where is my niece?" She snarled, emerald eyes darkening farther and rage overcoming her better judgement. She didn't know any better than to not wince as the Goblin King glared down on her... not that she would have cowered away in fear even if she -did- know the power of his rage. Xanthe's wellbeing was something she didn't play around with.

"The girl, you mean?" He drawled, passing her effortlessly and moving to the window with snide elegance.

"-Yes- the girl!" Tara raged, "Is that all you people can respond with! 'The girl?' Who else would I be talking about!"

She fell back a pace as he whirled violently on her in a surge of power she was acutely aware that she shouldn't have been able to feel. Still, she came forward again, defiantly glaring him down as best she could regardless of the fact that he easily overshadowed her, nevermind with the hair that reminded her insufferably of a cotton ball.

"It would be in your best interests to calm yourself, young Tara." He stated with mock patience, his own stormy gray eyes piercing through her vibrant ones.

"It would be in your best interests to answer the question." Tara combatted with a snarl, keeping her gaze sharp, though she was in danger of being terrified.

He laughed lowly, darkly, the sound of it grating over her nerves as it echoed off of the walls to hit her again, and again, and again, in a merciless attack that just wouldn't stop. His laughter alone was enough to send her over the edge, arousing more than one contradicting emotion to the surface.

"You are bold, my dear Tara." He stated in a hiss, "But that is something you must learn to control. I am a patient man. You will have time..."

"Where is Xanthe!" She insisted, forcing herself to stand strong, though all she wanted to do was collapse, possibly against him, possibly as far away from him as possible. Either way would have worked for her. She just wanted to collapse.

"And persistant. Yes, you will do excellantly..."

She wanted-- needed an answer. Maybe it would give her some stability. Her knees were threatening to go out from under her. "Where IS SHE!"

Her legs failed her, and she collapsed with the sudden uprising of emotion. The Goblin King made no attempt to catch her, but he did, rather owningly, pull her off of the floor, setting her into a chair.

Perhaps it was out of pity, or perhaps it was part of his game, but he indulged her that one answer. "She's being cared for by the more competant of my Goblins. She will not be harmed."

Tara looked at him uncertainly, purposely ignoring the red flush that spread across her face, and down her chest. "Will you... Will you turn us into goblins?"

He smirked a little at her unspoken surrender. He knew it wouldn't last long, but the few moments he had with her in which she was not fighting him tooth and nail would become precious to him. "No." He stated cockily, pushing a few strands of midnight hair out of a face of white as she lowered her gaze acceptingly to the floor, "I have a better plan for you."

* * *

**Authors Notes**: _First chapter up! What do you all think? I love reviews!_

_Oh, and I'll say it now: I don't own the Labyrinth, or Jareth, but I do own Tara!_


	2. Helpless Confusion

Chapter Two

Tara soon found that cooperation bought her quite a bit of freedom around the castle. The Goblins, though disgusting, did not approach her, so she was not bothered. Having not been granted another set of clothing yet, she wandered about comfortably in the sweeping back silk skirt (though, from sleeping in it, it was wrinkled) and a fitted black tank top. She'd removed her jewelry, though, and was holding it in her hand, a thin strip of leather dangling out, it's dark brown contrasting against the almost white of her knuckles. If she opened her hand, she'd doubtless find the imprint of the dragon necklace in her palm.

How could she -do- this! She'd wished herself, and her beloved niece away! Not, of course, that she'd mentioned Xanthe in her prayer... she probably dragged her along for the ride. Subconciously, of course.

She didn't mind being in the situation by herself, though she'd most certainly miss her group of friends, and had she not taken Tracey, Tracey as well. It was the fact that Tracey deserved more-- Better-- than to be the slave of a Goblin King.

A sexy Goblin King at that.

She shuddered to think of what he might do to the child, if the Labyrinth had become that much darker than it had been in the movie.

Her solution was simple: She had to find Tracey, and find a way to get her back to her grandmother in the above ground, and then come back-- hopefully before the king knew she was gone, though, she knew that wasn't likely to happen. Either way she'd have to deal with the rage of the Goblin King, and she knew that wouldn't be a pretty sight. How would she get the child back, anyway? Say, "I wish the lord of the above ground would take you away?" She doubted -that- would work.

Maybe, if she was a very, very, very good little girl, Jareth would allow her that royalty.

Doubtful.

She frowned as she found herself lost in a very large castle, judging from the stairs she'd climbed, about level twenty seven. She'd hoped Xanthe would be at the very top, but the very top was much higher than it seemed.

Nothing was as it seemed in the Labyrinth.

She groaned quietly, her back hitting the wall, and she slid to a sitting position, crossing her legs beneath her midnight skirt. "Now what?" She asked herself out loud. The corridor was completely empty, now. "I'm lost in the castle of the Goblin king, I can't find my niece, I've been wearing the same clothes for two days, I'm tired, and there are no computers around here." She sighed, letting her head hit the wall behind me, "And I have to figure out how to get my niece -out- of here. Wow, that one'll be hard..."

"Seems you have quite the dilema." Spoke a smooth, dark voice, "Odd how you always collapse in my presense..."

Tara rocketed to her feet, looking around for the sourse of the sound, but she saw nothing, only the empty hall, and the shadows. "Where are you!" She shouted boldly, moving out of the shadow she herself had taken shelter in.

She felt him take a firm grasp on her wrist, and he yanked her back into the shadows. She could see nothing still, but she felt his scalding warmth against the entirity of her front. He'd crushed her against him.

"Here." He spoke hotly into her ear, letting one arm snake itself around her waist. He half pulled his upper body away from her to put his hand between them. A small, crystal orb appeared in the restess of his palm, giving off a faint light. It was filled with glitter.

"Watch." He hissed.

The glitter within the sphere rested in the bottom, making room for an image. It was the image of her niece, playing happily with two Goblins. She had forced barbies into each of their hands, and was running around a humongous Barbie house to place her own barbies. She snatched one she'd given to a goblin back, to set that one, and all the goblin did was stare at her with wide eyes as she ran about, giggling.

The crystal bubble popped.

In the faint burst of light, she could see the small, contented smile that played across his lips. He knew he had her in the palm of his hand.

Tara had the feeling she should thank the Goblin king for enforcing the fact, to her, that the child was alright. For letting her know that Xanthe was happy, and not locked up in some oubliette crying her aunts name to the heavens.

But the words got caught in her throat. How -dare- he stand there, and tease her like this! How -dare- he come out of nowhere with the heat of candle wax, hold her so close, breathe her in as she couldn't help but breathe in his strong aroma of ginger and magic? How could he tempt her so coldly, whisper in her ear with her waist pressed against his, all the while flashing pictures of Xanthe across her gaze?

What was wrong with this picture?

Suddenly, in an act she wagered must have startled the pompous king, she struggled to untangle herself, barking out a shrill, "Let me -go-!" Adding only in her mind, '-I won't be your puppet! I can't be a puppet! I'm not just some wooden marienette for you to have your fun with!-'

He slammed her easily against the near wall, pressing his body stiffly against hers, holding his gaze so closely to hers she could almost see the color of his eyes, filled with rage. She halted her movements, finding that it wasn't helping any, and forced herself to be content with glaring up at him. She let out a quiet yelp as his hands found a place under her arms, and he lifted her up so her eyes were level with his, propping a knee between her legs to keep her there as he let his hands dropped, and she took in a choked gasp, trying despirately not to squirm from the pressure on the choice point-- to squirm would be to fall, and to fall meant to meet with pain, which she was so terrified of.

"What was that?" He snarled, "-Pet-? I don't think I heard you correctly." His voice was so dark, and aggrivatingly calm-- maybe even amused.

She seized a hold of his shoulders to better balance herself, and he allowed her to. Finding that that wasn't working very well (due to the jewelry still in her hand), she just went ahead and clung to his neck, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She whimpered over, and over again, trying to calm the rage that she couldn't feel from his voice.

"Are you?" He pressed her harder against the wall, so she was crushed between him, and it, and she whimpered at the change between her legs, becoming steadily more aggrivated as the area began to heat up longingly.

She nodded against his neck, "I'll be good." She begged, "Please don't hurt me! I'll be good..."

"You do fear that, don't you." He purred gently in her ear, "Pain." He pulled his head a little away from her, brushing his fingertips over the no longer fresh bandaging over her head, "And yet you know it so well..." His gaze trailed down her forehead to the terrified pools of green beneath. "No, pet. That is one thing that I will promise you." She found herself unintentionally leaning toward him, shifting the pressure. "I will never harm you."

He dropped the knee from under her, earning a gasp from her as he took her waist with his hands instead. Holding her helplessly before him, he pressed his lips to hers demandingly, before biting lightly on the bottom one to request entrance. She obliged willingly, allowing him to explore her dizzyingly as his hands against her waist turned into one arm wrapped about her, and the other tangling itself into her hair.

Once she'd been set down, she could hardly believe what had just happened, though, her lips were still swollen, and throbbing. Her breaths were shallow, short, as she stared in wonder at him, still holding her. It wasn't her first kiss, she'd kissed plenty of people before.

But they were never, -never- like that.

"Lets take care of the next problem, shall we?" He hissed as if they hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. She blinked a couple of times, and then a wave of guilt hit her. Hadn't she been able to return the effect? Was she really that unimpressive? She looked to the floor as he began to walk off. He turned, looked at her for a couple of seconds, and came back, slipping his arm around her waist, warming her as if a wave of boiling water had just hit her, he guided her away from the wall.

"You should sleep." He stated suddenly, "Weariness does not become you."

Tara paused to stare at him for a moment, "But I've just slept."

She turned toward a window to reconfirm the fact to herself, but her jaw dropped to find that the moon instead of the artificial sun was out. She blinked to clear her eyes. No, she wasn't mistaken. It was night-- likely around midnight.

How long had she been lost?

As he led her gently toward the room he'd granted her, she walked as if in a daze, not really seeing the goblins pass on either side of them, not seeing the beautifully wicked goblin turning down her sheets.

Sleep sounded heavenly to her, now.

So, the submissive heroine slept, and she slept well for the first hour or so. Jareth sat in the rocking chair hidden within the shadows, watching her intently, seeing to it that no foul dreams came to his sleeping beauty. As long as she obeyed him, he would do this for her, though, it would make him weary during his days of kingship. He felt this small reward worth the sacrifice.

But after that hour the king of Goblins and Fantasies slipped into powerless slumber, and his beloved pet was thrown to the wolves.

The wolf of this night was a dream of her beloved, being taunted by demonic looking creatures, who prodded her repeatedly with sticks. She could tell that said creatures were not Goblins, for even as the crude creatures they were, they held a certain degree of loveability to them. These creatures were just black, and hard. Evil through and through, and cruel to the core. Tara wished she could identify the beasts, and therefor shelter her Xanthe from them-- as her dreams often came true-- but she could not recognize them.

But when she walked into the dream she knew she had to figure out what was going on. She was chained, hands and feet, and in what would be a skimpy white silk nightgown if it wasn't five sizes too big for her. There were black circles under her eyes. She looked broken.

"Tara."

She groaned, scanning the dream for the one who was calling with that smooth, heavensent voice.

"Tara." It pressed, louder this time. It almost sounded urgent. She wanted to get to it so badly. Maybe it would rescue her from these horrors she called dreams.

"Tara!"

Her eyes snapped open, and in the twilight she saw the face of her savior above her, the face of the king of the Goblins, the face of Jareth. He looked concerned, stroking her forehead with his thumb. She wanted to cling-- just wrap her arms around him and never let go, but she refused.

"Good morning..."

He chuckled lowly, relief washing over him. "Not quite."

"Oh..." She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to keep all signs of what she was feeling under wraps. The last thing she needed was for him to start getting possessive-- especially now, while she wanted him to so badly. She doubted she would be able to refuse him, and to give herself up... so entirely... so willingly... would be a betrayal to the one she held dearest.

No, she would wait. Do whatever she had to do to rescue the child, and then, when she was safe, she would give herself up. As things were, the stakes were too high. She would not risk harm to Xanthe-- she never would have.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asked smoothly. She felt him slip into her bed, and a lump hardened in her throat.

"...Yes." She wanted so badly to turn into him, to explain everything she'd ever dreamed, and have it explained to her by the only one who could possibly get it through that they were just dreams, just nightmares, that it didn't mean anything.

Of course, then, there -was- her stubborn side, as well, that told her to get out of the bed, run for the door, and make a run for her niece. Get her out of that hell hole, and get herself out as well, just to spite the bastard king.

To spite the bastard king, whether he was truly such a bastard or not.

In any case, her limbs refused to move. She had no choice but to be held as he wrapped his arms gently around her, easing her into his embrace.

"The dream's over." He whispered softly into her ear, "Go back to sleep..."

Tara assumed that that was when she fell asleep. She couldn't remember anything past then, but she awoke alone in the bed. Calm. It was apparent that after that point in time she slept reletively well. She was fully rested, and she artificial sun was just rising.

With uncharacteristic cheerfulness she sat up, and stretched, reaching for the ceiling with a sigh before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She glanced toward the window, listening to the birds chirp merrily before she walked over to the closet. She frowned to find that there was only one dress... a simple, but pretty maroon one that had a box cut neck that came a little lower than she was generally comfortable with. The gown was hemmed with golden threads, the accent to be picked up by the necklace that hung off of the hanger-- a black velvet choker, with a golden pendant that showed two dragons, meeting at the snout, and with tails that crossed to form the restess of a smooth red stone. On the floor was a pair of comfortable looking leather boots, that came down in a V at the front.

Shrugging a little, she took the hanger out of the closet and lay the garment across the bed, setting the boots similarly beside it, before walking through the third door in her room, to where the bathroom was. With the dull calm of morning, she knelt beside the claw footed tub, and twisted on the water before closing the door, and bathing.

She dressed on her own, feverishly now that she'd finally woken up all the way, and dropped the necklace on the bed after struggling with it. She yanked on the boots, and stormed out of the room, blinking to find that three goblins had been trying, unsuccessfully, to spy on her.

"Can I help you?" She demanded in irritation as the tower of them fell backwards, and shattered. Pity could not reach her as two of them scuttled, terrified, backwards. The third just stood there, dumbfounded as he stared at her.  
"She's not wearing the amulet." One of the goblins commented with interest as she pushed her long midnight hair out of her face.

"You're right! She's not!" A second goblin marveled, "The king will not be pleased!

"No! Not pleased at all!" The first one responded with a bit of laughter.

"Oh, whatever..." Tara sighed, moving gracefully down the hallway. She made it the rest of the way to the diningroom without confrontation, but sitting in the dining room-- waiting for her, apparently-- was Jareth, a baby on his lap. She found it a little odd that her could terrify so many goblins, but to the baby he was just a gentle man with poofy hair and a wierd voice.

"It isn't nice to stare, Tara." He informed her, waking her from her thoughts. She gasped, realizing that she had, indeed been staring, but coughed a couple of times to cover the coughing.

"Back to stealing babies, Jareth?" She snarled venomously. With her rest, her resolve had come back full force. She stood a little taller as he cast an annoyed look up at her, before he turned. "STOGDEM!" He roared, causing Tara to back up in sudden terror. Maybe she shouldn't have spoken up so? Either way, what's said is said-- isn't that what the moral of the movie had been? She glanced over as the short, plump goblin approached.

"Stongblende..." He corrected quietly.

"Take the infant to the nursery." Jareth demanded, nearly dropping the baby into the goblins stubby arms.

"Yes, master." He turned, and left with the child.

It was in the same instant that Tara found herself pressed up against a wall yet again, a little off the ground, yet again, so Jareth was staring levelly into her eyes. She gulped at the sight of the fire that raged within his dismal eyes, setting them alight. It was a different look from before, not filled with rage so much as with annoyance, and triumph. Rage coursed through every fiber of her being, and she clung to that rage despirately, afraid of what whould happen if she didn't.

"You should hold your tongue." He stated casually, almost conversationally.

"Take me to Xanthe." Tara demanded, but her voice didn't sound nearly as strong as she had hoped it would. It mirrored the conflicting emotions within her perfectly.

He laughed quietly, shaking his head at her. "In time." He stated with a wolfish grin, "You'll see your dear niece in time. When you don't have any intentions of stealing her back to the above--" He paused, his mood darkening as his gaze brushed over her neck, "You're not wearing the amulet."

* * *

Authors Notes: This is when I say: I'm better than you! Nyah nyah!  
Ok... just kidding... but in all reality, I _do _get to say: The Labyrinth and therefore Jareth don't belong to me, but Tara does! 


	3. Elven Grace

Chapter Three

As Tara watched rage fill Jareth's eyes, she preyed that he would wave the fact of her apparent disobediancy with a swift 'whatever', but as he pushed away from her, letting her fall to the floor (though she landed gracefully on her feet), and dug his hands into his hair, looking stressed, she realized that wasn't going to happen.

What was so important about that necklace, anyway?

"Tara..." He growled lowly. She could tell he was forcing his patience as he turned to glare at her, "Why are you not wearing the amulet?"

She felt a bit special that giving her a chance to explain seemed to be high on his priorities list, but it did nothing to calm her down. "I couldn't get it on." She stated uncertainly, staying by the wall, "I didn't feel like dealing with it."

He let out a sharp breath, throwing his mane of silvery hair out of his face, though it didn't do for very long. "There are many things in the underground," He explained patiently, "That are far less... generous than I have been."

Rage filled Tara's entire being. Generous! How was holding her, and her beloved niece as his slaves, generous! But the emotion left her almost immediately as she watched him run his hand through his thick hair. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked nervously, her eyes widening uncertainly as she lowered her head a little to stare at his chest rather than his face, suddenly feeling unworthy.

"The Labyrinth is in a sort of Civil War." He went on, "Most of my... my enemies wouldn't hesitate to harm you..."

"Jareth..." It shocked her a little that she was using his actual name, but she didn't have time to think about that.

"That amulet was meant to protect you, should I fall." Jareth came out with finally. Tara froze, a whirlwind of emotions flowing through her body. He simply watched her as she lowered her gaze to the floor, confused, degraded. Why would he give -her- such a precious amulet? Why was her safety so important to him? How could she have been so impatient as to just drop it on the bed?

On the bed! It was probably still there!

"I left it on the bed." She stated hurriedly, feeling the need to redeem herself, "It's probably still there, the goblins--"

"No." Jareth sighed, shaking his head, "They have been following you for some time, on the above ground. They will have taken it." A shudder ran down her spine as she slid down the wall to sit. Why were they following her? Why was she so damned important in this fued?

"Who are they?" She asked emotionlessly, looking up at him as he kneeled before her. "Why do they want me?"

He sat in silence for a long while, just staring at her. Should she tell her? -Could- he tell her? He didn't know very well himself. He had intended to take her, use whatever it was his enemies wanted her for against them, and dispose of her. He fell in love with her voice, however, and changed his intentions to keeping her for that purpose, and then, when he tired of her, he would dispose of her.

As he watched her, however, he began to fall in love with her spirit, as well. Her strength, her courage, and her undying love for the child. She was queen material, unlike so many fae who had tried to get his attention, and he wanted her as his queen. Her beauty-- raw, and dark-- was a definate added bonus.

He knew not their intentions, however. He severely doubted they were more honorable than his own had been.

"Elves." He answered finally, "A legion of my goblins are being led by the elves." He sighed, lowering his head as she continued to stare numbly into him. He could've sworn she could tell he was hiding something of his own. "I know not why they chose you."

"Why did -you- choose me?" She asked quietly, all emotion blocked from her voice.

"Because they did." He admitted honestly. For some reason, he found the urge to tell this mortal the truth. it was what she deserved, was it not? "I assumed that you must have some spectacular elven magic which they wanted to harness. I must admit, however, I have seen evidence of nothing except perhaps intolerable impatience."

Tara glared hard. She wanted out of the castle. Now. Here, she had even begun to feel -guilty-. What a mistake -that- was.

"Then let me go." She snarled, "Give me Xanthe, and send me to the above ground." Her voice was dangerously low, masked by her rage. She did not waver as Jareth turned her glare toward her. She did not even blink against the whithering look that sent most goblins, and mortals alike into panicked frenzies. He was about to say something, but she interupted him. "-Now-, Goblin King."

He sneered at her, throwing her backwards with a wave of a hand. She went down, and skidded toward the throne, her back hitting it hard as she lay on the floor, arm over her head, and groaning. Well. That had been an unnerving experiance. Not quite as painful as she had expected, but unnerving nontheless.

"No." He sneered, "I think I'll keep my trophies." What compassion he had had for her was gone completely now. He was the goblin king again, complete with his terrible magnificence.

Stiffly, she pressed her palms to the cold floor, and pushed herself half up, head turning, and black matted hair falling into her face. The throne behind her exploded into a million tiny bits, and her eyes flashed golden for a milisecond.

"I'll ask you one more time, Goblin king." She snarled, "Give me my niece, and let. Me. Go." Her rage was getting out of control. She could feel her fury like a solid fire, passing through her veins rather than her blood like a shield. She felt invincible-- no, not just invincible, but powerful.. important.. beautiful.. confident. She was everything she wanted to be, and she was loving it. She knew somewhere inside of her that it was wrong, but she pushed that minor detail aside.

"Amazing..." Jareth breathed quietly, stepping toward her.

As her hair began to turn into solid gold, she decided to test out her new powers, by sweeping her own hand through the air. Jareth went flying.

Unfortunately, this used up too much energy, too quickly, and she too went down, out cold.

When she woke up, she was no longer in the castle. In fact, looking around, she noted that she wasn't in the Labyrinth at all. Where the Labyrinth held a kind of dark magnificence in its aura that Tara didn't realize she was so fond of, this place was bright, and obnoxious. Just being here made her want to curl into a corner, and hide from anyone who could possibly stand living in such a world.

The option steadily became more and more appealing as a man walked into the lavishly decorated room. He was tall, standing so straight that he seemed to be trying to lean backwards, and with golden hair that cascaded beautifully down his back. Everything about his face betrayed his graceful movements, and gorgeous hair. His nose was sharp, his eyes a cold chrome, and his lips were thin, curled into a sneer. His fingers were long, and boney, moving constantly as if to twirl what was not there about his hands. The tunic he wore was a dark magenta color, making him look even more pale, and more horrifying than he had already acquired just by being born.

She didn't have to look twice at his gracefully pointed ears to see that he was one of the before mentioned elves.

"Get away from me!" Tara demanded hotly, trying despirately to climb to her feet, and off of the cold dirty floor, but her legs failed her, as if they had died during her long rest. She glanced to them in exaspiration, and saw the rope tying her ankles together. She couldn't have gotten up if her legs -did- work. "Get away from me!" She shrieked again with slightly less confidence, crawling as far away from the approaching monster as she could.

She let out a cry of pain as he wound his horrifying fingers in his hair, and yanked her up to face him. Tears coming to her eyes, she tried to force him to let go, to no avail.

"You, Adriana DeLearté, have been a very, bad, girl." He sneered.

* * *

_**Authors Notes:** I apologize for the time it took to load this chapter onto I'd forgotten I hadn't done it yet, and then I checked my stats after a week or so. Hehe... so, yeah. Anyways, The Labyrinth doesn't belong to me, and nor does Jareth. Tara, however, does belong to me, and I swear I'll throw you into the Bog of Eternal Stench if you try to steal her from me!_


	4. Forget The Child

Chapter Four

Jareth was going mad, searching the castle for his newest servant. Many goblins felt his wrath during this search, and eventually, most just decided not to cross him. The only ones that so much as dared look at him during his passings were the upper members of his council, and even they did not speak unless spoken to.

"Damien!" He roared as he returned to the throne room in which they had had their argument, and Tara had made the mistake of overpowering him. "Damien!" He roared again as he threw himself down in his throne, hand splayed over his chin in careful contemplation.

"Yes your highness?" Asked a humble, younger fey as he rushed into the room, "What is it, my lord?"

"Track her down." He demanded, half turning to bore into the fey with his mismatched gaze, "I don't care how you have to do it, but track her -down-. I -will- not allow those blasted elves to have that girl! Their ultimate weapon! It is simply unacceptable!"

Although the young fey had his suspicions that his king hadn't revealed his full reasons for wanting the girl back, he dared not question, nevermind disobey. He flew out of the throne room like a hawk rising into flight, and moved gracefully for the library. He didn't even notice as the goblins fled from his path. As he reached the library, the doors slammed shut behind him, and as he sat, a book flew out of the book case toward him. He snatched it out of the air with ease, and flipped it to the correct page. For perhaps hours, he stared down onto the picture.

Tara, which was of no surprise to her secret watcher, was fighting, still, against the elf that dragged her as if on display throughout the distractingly bright castle. Other elves stopped to cheer. Some of them threw random eggs at her, although they quickly found the same eggs hurdled back toward them. It wasn't long before Tara was before the one who called himself the king of the elves.

He looked much like the rest of the elves. His long blonde hair did nothing to hide the sharp ears, or the unforgiving bone structure of his face. His blue eyes were cold, and harsh, boring into Taras own with the promise of a punishment far worse than she could imagine if she dared struggle in his presence. His tunic was a bright, vibrant blue, which only served to dull the gray blue of his eyes. His breaches were a darker blue, and his ears were pierced multiple times, silver hoop earings occupying the holes.

"Hello, young Adriana." He hissed, and Tara shuddered, dropping to the floor as she stared up at the horrific creature that called himself an elf. His voice was cold, smooth-- snakelike.

"Why do you people keep calling me that!" She cried, "My name is Tara Elliot! Not Adriana!" She winced silently as a hand was brought sharply across her face. She refused, however, to give the one with the nerve to strike her the pleasure of her pain. She would not show her physical weakness, and her emotional weakness would only be revealed if she had a reason.

"You -are- Adriana DeLearté." The king growled at her as he stood. With a motion, he scattered the elves that had been around her. He took their place, glaring down on her, "You simply do not remember such."

"I think I would know if I was using an alias." Tara snapped, not backing up a bit as the harsh elf came toward her. As he leaned over her, she took the chance of a lifetime, and swiped her own hand across his face, leaving four deep cuts across his cheek. She blinked, and threw herself backwards at the sight, looking at her hand just in time to see her nails retake their original length. She shook her head with confusion, and looked back up at the king as he merely laughed. There was no doubt in her mind that he was mocking her.

"You should be careful of what you do, in this place, young Adriana." He hissed as the wounds quickly healed. He smirked at her as she tried to back up farther, finding herself at the feet of more elves. "I cannot guarenty the patience of my people."

She let out a shriek as the elves came in around her, tearing at her skin, and at her hair. She was panicking, so in this moment, she called out to the only one she thought would ever listen.

"Jareth!" She cried, trying despirately to push the elves away.

Damien sat back, and nodded approvingly. That was what needed to happen-- at least, it sure as hell made -his- job a lot easier. The cry would reach his sovereins ears, and the king would know exactly where to find his damsel in distress. He stood, and made his way out of the library, only to find that it was already too late. Judging by the rush of goblins coming toward him, Jareth had already gone-- rather suddenly, without an explaination, and, knowing his king, dramatically.

One elf yanked her savagely to him, attacking her lips with his, leaving her bruised, and broken. A second elf repeated the act, and then a third, until they were all pulling at her, hurting her.

"Enough!" Roared the voice of Jareth, and the elves scattered, leaving Tara to collapse weakly. They snickered cruelly as she stared at him with wide eyes. She crawled to his feet, and clamped herself around one firm leg, clinging to him for dear life. She'd've done anything he commanded her to, just to try to thank him properly. But judging by the cold glare he sent her before looking away, it wouldn't be enough. He was angry with her.

"Well if it isn't the goblin king." Sneered one elf, swaying as if drunk, "That is one impressive 'personal servant' you've got there, -my lord-" She winced at the term. Was that what she was? Had she more energy, she would have lashed out at the offending elf, but she was bleeding, physically, and emotionally.

She let out a shriek as Jareth seized her arm, and pulled her up, wrapping his own arm around her waist to hold her up. He ignored the elf, turning his attention instead to the king of them.

"You've abused my pet." He snarled, and Tara felt a tinge of guild for allowing herself be taken to this place, and then for making Jareth come here for her. She wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor. Xanthe was slowly fading from her mind.

"She is your pet no longer." Snarled the elven king as he raised his fist, "Guards!"

Before the elves could reach them, Jareth pulled his broken prize tight to him, and they vanished from the throne room in a puff of glitter. She was slightly aware of the sense of vanishing, and then the sense of nonimportance as he let her drop to the floor of his own throne room, striding away from her, and to his stone throne.

She dared not speak, she dared not raise her gaze to meet that of the goblin king. Her body ached, and the wounds still cut through her as if the ones inflicting them had not yet finished their job.

Naturally, it was Jareth who spoke first, "I did not think you foolish enough to escape to the elves." He growled, his voice low, and severe as he glared at her through cold slits of gray, and blue. She wanted to weep as his gaze cut a deeper hole through her. Hiding was her second option.

"I didn't escape." She whimpered quietly, despirately.

"Alright, I fix my wording." He snarled, "I did not think you foolish enough to -try- to escape to the elves."

"But I didn't..." Tears reached the corners of her eyes, and she forced them back, standing. She spread her arms, "Do you really think I would condemn myself to this!" His gaze swept over her as she stood before him, bared, for the most part, both emotionally and physically. The cuts went through the dress, so it was almost falling off of her now. "Do you really think I would leave Xanthe...?" Her voice weakened, and she let her head drop. She felt broken, and he felt guilty.

He had forgotten the child, and the girls determination to save her.

As tears slipped down her cheeks, stinging as they went, he approached her, slowly, so as not to alarm her, although she took a step back when he reached to take her arm.

"Shhhh..." He whispered, "I believe you, I believe you.." As he repeated the statement, Tara looked uncertainly at him, but stopped trying to escape him as he touched her gently. The cuts began to heal, and she gasped as the sharp pleasure cut through her, making her want to laugh, and scream, and cry, and moan, all at the same time. He took ahold of her other arm, mostly to keep her from collapsing, and the scratches on the other side of her body began to heal also.

"What are..." She panted, staring at him with wide eyes, "What are you doing... doing to me?" He only smirked as she felt her body growing weak from his sweet torture, and suddenly she realized that the healing did not require this... this sensation. This was something he had added on his own.

When she was sufficiantly healed, Jareth whisked her up into his arms, so that her legs were draped over one arm, and her head rested weakly on his shoulder as her vision blurred in and out of clarity. He may as well have drugged her for all she faught him as he carried her through the halls. The goblins stopped to stare at them as he passed them. He didn't even acknowledge them with a glance.

Tara blinked a couple of times as she was lain down on the softest bed she had ever felt, and turned her head to see the black satin. She began to panic as her gaze wandered. He shut the light out from the balcony window with heavy black curtains. She frowned, finding herself in darkness. Her eyes, naturally, immediately found the first light provided, a blue flame from a red candle. He lit more candles, and more candles, lingering over each one to stare at her through the light for a moment before he moved to the next.

He was teasing her. Manipulating her mind to think of him as the light in the darkness. He who would rescue her when her nights became restless. She knew it. She could feel him bending her thoughts to his will, but she didn't have the will to protest at the moment. She was broken, and he had fixed her. She was lost, and he had found her. It was the way things were.

As he loomed over her, her thoughts drifted to Xanthe, and she opened her mouth to ask about her, but his gloved finger stopped her from speaking.

"Forget about the child." He whispered, leaning over her, and placing his lips tenderly to hers. He stroked ebony strands of hair out of her pale face, and half lifted her to him. His touch still had that shocking effect.

In the flickering blue light, lost within the commanding pleasures of his touch, Xanthe began to fade from Taras reeling mind.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **_First off-- No, Jareth does not belong to me. Second off-- neither does the Labyrinth, however, Tara and Xanthe are of my own creation, as well as this story plot, whether you like it or not._

_Third off-- Let me just mention a few stats. Chapters: Four. Hits: 68 (yay!) Reviews: 0_

_What the hell!_

_Just -one- review would make me -so- happy!_

_(And here I go with begging in my own roundabout way. Oh well...)_


	5. Her Touch

Chapter Five

"I want the child brought back to the above ground." Jareth announced as he strolled through his library, three goblins at his heels, and Damien at his desk. The goblins started their panicked protests, but Damien beat them boldly to it.

"It is impossible, my lord." He stated matter of factly, almost boredly as his king stopped before him to glare at him, "The child has already been wished to us. We cannot simply send her back."

Jareth scowled as he crossed his arms. With the plans he had for his Tara, she couldn't be distracted with the child, and sending her back would give him a sort of... glow. It would be a good deed, of sorts. A reason for his newest slave to like him, and in order to play the game he intended to play, he needed to get that close to her at least.

"There must be a way." He stated, "I am the Goblin King! I can do whatever I choose!"

"Yes, my lord." Damien stated, "You are the king of the -Labyrinth-, the -underground- but walk on the streets of new york, and I dare say you will be far less respected." He paused, eying his king, and his friend, carefully. "Why do you want to do this so badly, anyway?" He asked curiously, and then frowned, "Oh, my king... please tell me it has nothing to do with that slave girl you retrieved from the elves not so very long ago." At the silence he recieved, Damien groaned, holding her head, "She's a mortal, my lord!"

"A mortal in whos good graces I would thrive in." Jareth bit back, glaring.

"But my Lord," Damien strove to argue, "She is but a servant girl! A -mortal- servant girl!" Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but Damien interupted, "And don't tell me it is none of my concern, because I am no longer speaking to you as my king-- Jareth, I am speaking with you as my -friend-!"

"Then as my friend, assist me in this dilema in which I find myself!" Jareth snapped, and glanced behind him at the now cowering, and confused Goblins. "You are dismissed." he growled, and they bowed before scurrying off.

Tara woke up alone (due to having woken earlier than she was meant to), but sated. The candles had long burned themselves out, and she found herself in perfect darkness. That didn't mean to say, of course, that she minded. Something different from the time she had previously spent, was that now she could see fine in the darkness. She assumed it was the lingering touch of the Goblin King.

She frowned, pushing her black hair away from the white skin of her face, before dragging her fingertips over her eyes, stretching the fragile skin as she tried to think. She was missing something very, very important. Something she had forgotten, though of her own free will. Something she had to remember... Something that ws a burden as well as a blessing. Something that she had loved, and despised. Something... pure.

Jareth cut his rant short, eyes widening, and then gleaming, "Dear friend," He stated, "I must leave you now. The mortal servant girl of whom we speak is overcoming my spells."

As his king swept off, Damien remained in the library, frowning, and worrying for his king.

"Xanthe." Jareth answered Tara's unasked question as he stepped into the room, casting his sillouette on the wall. He blinked at her as she exclaimed the name at the exact same moment as the one he had given her the answer.

"I underestimated you, pet." He stated as she stared at him unblinkingly, before looking down. Their previous...engagement was not foreign to her memory. In fact, the instant she saw his beautiful blonde hair swaying around him, it was nearly all she could think of. The ways he had touched her... the ways he had made her feel with only the simplest kiss. She blushed furiously as his mocking laughter echoed throughout the room.

"You seem to underestimate many people." She stated finally as she looked up boldly, "You surely underestimated the courage of the elves."

"As well as your courage." He agreed, staring warningly at her, though she did not back down. "I have made a decission. A decission I am sure you will find quite to your liking." As an expression of hope crossed her face, a faint smile graced his slim lips. He wouldn't be letting her down, this time, "Although, with my decission comes an obligation, from you. A... deal, so to speak."

The hope left her face, though it remained in her eyes, "What is this deal you speak of?"

"I will send your beloved Xanthe back to the above ground if you will agree to fight for the kingdom of the Goblins." She opened her mouth to speak, but he interupted, "This will mean you will go through training-- pysical, mental, and magical."

"Who is to be my teacher." Tara asked without hesitation. She liked the deal. She'd have done nearly anything to get her beloved back home.

"I am." Jareth stated with a small nod, "You will be in my company at all times during the day, and at many times during the night." He explained, "Which means you will be attending quite a few political get togethers."

"You have yourself a deal." She stated, and offered a hand, at which he blinked at in confusion. She grinned slightly, and took the hand back, forgetting that the midieval king did not know to shake her hand. She shrugged it off, deciding that she would forget such above worldly traditions before very long.

Suddenly, Damien burst into the room, and looked at the two before bowing awkwardly. "My Lord!" He panted, "I need to speak with you!" Tara tilted her head, noting that the man she had never seen before was quite red in the face. He was handsome in his own right, far more refined than Jareth could even hope to appear, but exhausted.

"I am listening, Damien." The Goblin King stated calmly, looking at the man with a look that said for all the world that nothing could bother him at the moment.

The man looked at his king, and then at Tara, and back again. "Privately, my lord." He stated hurriedly, "I do not believe you want the girl to hear this."

Jareth frowned lightly, and left her to follow the man into the hallway. His mistake was to assume that she was completely under his rule now, and that she would sit like a good girl where she had been left, in complete and utter silence, without a trace of curiousity.

Such was simply not in Tara's nature.

So, she stood and made her way to the door, putting her ear to it as she listened to the two men talk.

"You're highness..." Damien muttered with a frown, scowling lightly as Jareth glared, hard at him, "I'm afraid that we have learned something about the child that will prevent our ability to return her to her home world. You see... she has her aunts touch on her."

"Yes, And!" Jareth demanded hotly, causing the fae to recoil, "What impending danger does this pose us, that is so important that you required my immediate audiance! And farther more, what does an aunts touch have to do with stopping the transportation of an unwanted child back to the world from which she came!"

"Your highness," Damien pleaded, "The child will not be safe! The elves will take her and use her as they would have that girl!"

Jareth froze with a scowl. "And there is no way of protecting her on the above ground?"

"No, my liege." Damien muttered quietly, bowing, "I'm afraid that there is nothing we can do but keep her within the Labyrinth, under heavy guard."

"I see." Jareth stated with a scowl, "Well then... We'll just have to send her back when the elves have been destroyed then."

"Yes my liege." Damien answered loyally.

Tara stepped back, having heard enough. She frowned deeply, wrapping pale arms around her pale body. Suddenly, as she felt the skin of her arms against the skin of her stomach, she felt her cheeks heat up, and she looked down to find herself completely naked. Her eyes went wide, and she snatched the silk sheet from off of the bed she had previously occupied, wrapping it around hesrelf as she stared around her in utter horror. Her mind was reeling-- she had gotten her beloved Xanthe all mixed up in this mess! And what did Damien mean, 'as they would have that girl'! What would they have done to her!

She closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out the world as her mind went back to that nightmare Jareth had woken her from, and she bit her lip hard, not even hearing him open the door, and slip in until she heard Damiens voice.

"My Lord," He called, face contorted in a frown, "The books I have been refrencing indicate that there may be a third!" He stated, walking through the door as the Goblin King turned around, his wild hair swaying with his movement. "If we can get the three together, and meld their powers, the elves would have not a chance."

Jareth frowned a little at this, but nodded, "Find the third." He ordered, "And bring her to me."

"Yes my lord." The fae responded with an obediant bow before he turned, and fled the room, leaving the king and I alone yet again.

He seemed to scowl at my sheet for a moment before he rise his gaze to meet mine, and he spoke. "I will have a servant girl in this room shortly to prepare you for tonights festivities." He stated matter of factly, "I expect you to be ready for her." He turned to go, but Tara interupted, standing.

"Jareth!" She called, cowering a few feet as he turned to her, an eyebrow arched at her pure gall. She blushed a little, before amending her exclaimation, "I mean... My lord..."

"You may call me by my name when we are in each others company alone." He dismissed, "What is it you require, Tara?"

"What do you mean by 'tonights festivities'?" She blubbered, her blush deepening as she struggled to straighten, and take up a posture that demanded attention. He smirked at her attempts to appear as his equal, telling her quite plainly that it had not worked, without uttering a single word.

"Did I not tell you?" He asked delicately, "Representitives from each kingdom will be arriving tonight to meet my..." He paused, for effect though it seemed to her that he was searching for the right thing to call her, "New student." His smirk broadened as she stared at him, trying in vain to stutter out thousands of questions that were swirling around in her pretty little head.

"You're not serious!" Tara cried out as she blanched, "They're coming to-- THEY'RE coming to--"

"Oh, I am perfectly serious." He stated with that arrogant charm that made her want to smack him, and bed him, all at the same time. "They will be arriving in precisely two hours, so I will leave you and allow you to prepare."

"Wait!" She half begged, rushing forwards as he turned to go. He turned back, his eyebrow arching higher than it had before, and she frowned, "Will there be elves there...?"

"Absolutely not." He stated calmly, before taking his leave of her.

Tara frowned as she turned her gaze flatly to the mirror. This day just got better with every minute that passed, didn't it? She scowled at her reflection, finding herself to be ragged. Broken, or at least, stretched to the point of breaking. She wasn't ready.

She wasn't ready for any of it.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ The Labyrinth does not belong to me. Jareth does not belong to me. Yay._

_Thank you to my grand total of **two** reviewers. You guys are so nice. _

_Two is so much better than one!_


	6. Ravishing

Chapter Six

An hour and a half later, Tara looked absolutely gorgeous. She had been bathed, and made up, and dressed up in such a short time, that she could barely comprehend the vision that now stared back at her from the shiny mirror she stood before, goblin maids on either side of her, making sure that her dress fell just right for when his highness came to call.

Her raven hair had been pinned up in ringlets and curls that was adorned with a powdery glitter that made it reflect all the light that hit it, and a tiara of crimson had been set as the focal point, wrapping around the front of her head, and then dipping into her forehead between her eyes, in the shape of a crescent moon. Her dress was the color of rubies, and it seemed to have been fitted to her. The bodice clung tight to her stomach, pressing it in, and she was sure that there was boning involved, but she couldn't feel it poking at her pelvic bone the way she usually did with corsets. Her breasts were nearly spilling out of the looser fabric over her bust, and the light catching silk of the skirt flowed over her legs like water to fan out at the feet, as if repelled by the floor. On mentioned feet were soft crimson slippers, and around her pale, long neck rested the pendant she thought she had lost before, the blood colored stone still resting comfortably between the dragons.

But the real show stopper lay not in the dress in which she was clothed, but in her face. She had been treated to every luxury when it came to her makeup. Metalic,ruby lipstick forced her already blood colored lips into the limelight, contrasting dramatically against the ivory of her skin, and black eyeliner almost completely shadowed her emerald eyes. She had almost been frightened as it was applied, finding that it may as well have been done with a sharpie, but it was, she noted, quite breathtaking despite the dramatic call it brought to her. The black was brought to tips at either side of her eyes, the way the Egyptians used to do theirs, and her eyes seemed the perfect frame for the tiara that felt so foreign atop her head.

The maids stepped away, and stared at their work fondly, finding that they had done quite a wonderful job as the young woman turned toward them, frowning slightly as she questioned,

"How long before I can get out of this thing?"

One of the younger maids laughed at the sheer irony-- the blunt words coming from the body of such a beautiful, and stately lady. She, however, was soon glared into silence by the three more matronly of the women, who turned their glare to their subject as soon as the girl had been silenced.

"However long His Highness wishes." One of them stated curtly, looking upon her with disapproval.

"You will have to be more curteous among the nobles, my lady." Another woman stated with more of a note of kindness to her voice, though it held the same sharp tone of disapproval. "They do not think highly of mortals, and a pretty thing like you should not be forced to face their wrath."

Tara sighed as her gaze returned to the mirror, and she tilted her head at it. "Well... how, exactly, should I act then?" She questioned despirately before turning back to the maids.

"Remember that you are among your superiors," The third matronly one advised, "And do not speak unless spoken to. When you do speak, make sure that you speak so politely that it rivals annoying."

Another heavy sigh escaped her blood red lips as Tara frowned. She didn't know if she could be quite that... subserviant. It wasn't really in her nature to do as she was said, and remain silent as the room around her gossipped. Perhaps she would get lucky, and have the blessings of a corner be showered upon her, where she would be ignored, and untempted to rise up against her so called superiors of different races.

"Ah!" The youngest of the maids cried, putting the back of her hand dramatically to her forehead, "I think I'm going to faint!"

"Get ahold of yourself." The second matronly goblin growled, irritation edging her voice, "What is it!"

"His highness nears the door!" She responded instantly, "He's going to fall in love with our handiwork, I'm sure!"

"Not if you don't open the door soon." The first goblin retorted, "Your senses are off. He's already here!" The young goblin let out a little squeel, as she ran around in circles a couple of times, crying out over, and over again her excitement.

"Begilda!" The third hissed, "OPEN the door!"

"Right!" Begilda blushed hideously before turning her bolt toward the door. She hesitated in front of it, expelling one more squeak of glee before she swung the door open wide.

Standing there, in all his glory, was none other than the Goblin King. Blue streaked through his wild blonde hair, his black poets shirt adorning his pale, muscular chest, trademark pendant brilliantly shone. His trousers were tight, as they always were, and there was a whispy black cloak about his shoulders, that seemed to fan out behind him, and his boots were perfectly polished. Glitter had been added over his eyes, but other than the extra makeup and cloak, he looked perfectly normal.

Tara suddenly felt sorely overdressed.

"Lady Tara," Jareth purred as his gaze scorched over her. She settled for crossing her arms over her chest, although she wanted to clasp her hands over her shoulders so he couldn't see her at all, or even better, run off and hide. "You look..." She wet her lips during the uncomfortable pause, knowing full well that he was making her feel this way on purpose. He met her accusing glare with a wolfish grin, "Ravishing."

"Likewise, -my lord-." She growled resentfully, half bowing as she prayed that she would suddenly be drawn into a dark pit of ink.

His grin grew into a smirk as he offered her his arm, "Shall we go?" He suggested as he lifted a devilish eyebrow at her. She hesitated, feeling for all the world like if she took his arm, she wasn't going to get to turn back. It'd be a last act of... something. Something she couldn't quite explain.

She shook the notion aside, deciding that she was merely being paranoid before she slipped her arm through his.

Her world spun as she felt a sense of euphoria envelope her. She fought against the foreign sensation, but it just got stronger, until it became something else... overpowering. Suddenly, she realized that she was no longer in control of the steady footsteps that she took as she strolled beside her king.

Her eyes would have gone wide if she could control herself, and her mind reeled against what was happening to her, but the euphoria returned, blinding her, and stopping her will to fight.

"What," She ground out through teeth that no longer belonged to her, "Have you done to me!"

He responded to her plea with only a knowing smirk. "Don't fight it, love." He hissed, "This way is easier for both of us."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ The Labyrinth, and its contents belong to me in absolutely no way, shape, or form. Tara, however, does, and if you steal her, you will be met with a whole shitload of squirrelly wrath!_

_...I've watched way too much Foamy..._

_Anyways, with that aside, I would like to make a few actual notes._

_Yes, this is a short chapter, because I found a cliffhanger I liked. Deal with it. Kay? Kay._

_lol, I'm just kidding! I'm working on chapter seven as we speak! I swear!_

_...Okay, I will be in the morning, I swear!_


	7. Exchange

Chapter Seven

As her gaze washed over the sheer number of people, many of which weren't even humanoid, she became quite aware that Jareth was probably very right. Her face went numb as she tried to stare at them in horror, only to have her legs follow Jareth, pulled as if by a string. She resented the fact that she was being controled, and wondered what, exactly, he could make her do-- as if there were limits. The fear that should have had her trembling in her slippers was not numbed from her mind, but it was a small comfort to know that there was no way for her to mess this up.

She knew she would have if he hadn't turned her into a puppet. She just didn't want to accept the fact.

"Friends!" He announced gaily as he stood behind what appeared to be a black iron podium, her arm still linked in his as mismatched eyes looked over the crowd, a hint of a grin touching his features as always. "Allies! And brothers! You have come here this day to see the woman who casts sunlight upon the Underground in this time of darkness! I present to you today, Lady Tara of Norwich!"

To the girls surprise, the crowd raised their variety of drinks up in a salute to her, exclaiming in unison, "Hail, Lady Tara of Norwich!" They, of course, pronounced the city of Connecticut wrong, a thing that would have amused her if she wasn't in such a despirate situation, but they couldn't be blamed.

She stopped fighting the faes influence as her eyes rested on a man he had clearly meant for her to see, who was staring at her with the strangest look she had ever seen in her life. His black hair hung over his pale face as bright green eyes stared at her the way a dog would stare at a piece of raw meat it did not have access to. As her mind worked past the ornate clothing of questionable origins, she realized a fact that would have made her gasp had she had the ability. It was her brother!

"What is he doing here!" She struggled to ask, but her mouth refused to move, merely curled in a false contented smile as her mind panicked behind the mask of calm. "Jareth!" She cried mentally as she felt the full force of not having control of herself. She began to push at his powers wildly, but it would not work. She knew not how to get him out of her head.

"Calm down, Tara!" His voice cut sharply through her head as he guided her away from the podium and toward the buffet of strange foods. "I will release you in time, but you must calm down!" In silence she headed his words, but calming down sounded easier than it was. She couldn't take the deep calming breaths that had worked so many times before, and even her mind was slipping from her grasp, and into Jareths, so she couldn't tell herself everything was alright. As she mechanically piled food onto her plate, she forced herself into submission. Not entirely a state of calm, but a state of stillness nonetheless.

As her mind stopped fighting against Jareths, the sense of euphoria overcame her again, calming the raging nerves that seeing her brother had stirred up. She lay, contented in her shell as she was sat down, and fed, his arm never leaving her as he fed her as if she were an infant.

Eventually the euphoria wore off, but she remained calm. She was allowed to look around at all the people, conversing with each other. She herself was, for the most part, ignored, regardless of the Goblin King sitting beside her on the soft, red velvet sofa he had her on.

"Think you can handle things from here?" He whispered in her ear, leaning over as if he were doing something far more intimate. Her body, accordingly, moaned quietly, eyes fluttering closed even though he was doing absolutely nothing to warrant the reaction. She nodded mentally to him, and he grinned, taking a nip at her ear while she still couldn't protest before removing himself entirely from her, thrusting her back into her body.

She took a deep breath as the shock hit her, and she stared in what could have been horror as Jareth strutted away. Had he really just _done_ that? Her rage at not being able to control herself fled as she fumed. He had _really_ just done that! And in public! And without drugging her first! Okay, so she _was_ drugged, but...

"Hello." She looked up sharply as the figure of her brother stood over her, the candle light playing against his skin, almost as fair as hers now, and his strong jaw line. It was him, alright. There was no doubt about it. What she didn't understand, was why he was here.

"Hello..." She responded hesitantly, weighing her options as she stared into his eyes as deep a green as hers, suddenly realizing how handsom he really was. She shook herself mentally, wondering what the hell was wrong with her, that she was finding her brother-- who was twenty years older than her-- attractive. She decided it was a side effect of the mind control Jareth had used on her, and shifted into a more comfortable position on the couch.

"The king seems fond of you." He stated with no traces of recognition in his voice. Suddenly, she couldn't remember who she had recognized him as anymore. She tilted her head as she stared at him through squinted eyes of confusion, quite aware that something was wrong, but not sure what. Where was she? What had happened? The last thing she remembered was walking down the hall with Jareth...

"Does he?" She murmured insecurely as her emerald gaze fell away from his, and to the floor of tan and peach tiling. "I hadn't noticed..."

"Shall we dance?" He asked, offering a hand to her as she looked up. Her mind was reeling. He looked so familiar! Where had she seen him? Why did it feel so wrong for her to be reacting to him the way she was? Why did she feel repulsed, and drawn to him all at the same time?

She scrambled for an excuse to stay right where she was, wherever that happened to be. "I don't think my lord would think very highly of that." She stated unsurely, her gaze traveling back down to the black gloves adorning her thin arms. Carefully she tugged at the edge of one as if it had fallen out of place, doing anything to get her attention away from the man that was terrifying her so.

"I'm sure your lord will understand that a man of any species has no way of resisting your beauty." He hissed charmingly, his gaze coming to rest on the point of her motion. She took ahold of her hand, and lifted her gracefully off of the sofa by it. "Come, we will dance."

"I really don't think--" Before she could protest farther, Jareth was standing between them, eyes narrowed on the man who had made his prize so uncomfortable. Without really thinking about it, Tara clamped onto his arm, her memories coming back to her as he pulled her to his chest, holding her to him as he glared at the defiler.

"I think it would be best if you left, Gericht."

The man laughed at the contempt in the kings voice, and bowed mockingly. As he stood bent over, Tara stared in shock. His hair of black shifted into that of gold, and the bright eyes of emerald regained their bright blue. His ears pointed, and he looked up to grin sadistically at the king.

"You should have a better hold on your pets, Goblin king." He taunted, before vanishing into thin air.

Jareth shifted his glare to Tara, and she clung to him as she felt her world spin around her, glitter everywhere she looked except for when she stared into his shirt, so that's what she did. "Don't take over my mind again..." she pleaded as they too vanished from the party, "Please..."

Quite suddenly, he thrust her away from him, so that she almost toppled to the floor had she not caught herself against the dark, rough wall first. She looked around her in a panic, seeing that he had taken her to some back room of the castle. One that had been long abandoned, and left into disrepair. She doubted any goblin servant had been in here for decades-- centuries, even. She shuddered as her gaze went to him in horror.

"I warned you of _him_." He snarled, voice thick with rage as he approached her. She looked as if she wanted to crawl up the wall, and hide as he took another step forward. She knew that her beautiful dress was being soiled beyond repair as she pressed herself against the wall in terror.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, "He came the minute you left, and I--I couldn't _think_!" He raised a hand as if to strike her, and she turned her head in a wince before the hand ever came down, shaking.

She was shocked when a gentle touch guided her eyes back to him, and blinked as he stepped forward, effectively squishing her between him and the wall of soot and stone, and keeping her in place. She was forced to stare up into his mismatched eyes as he put one hand on either side of her face, though she was incredably distracted by the strange sensation in her womb that she recognized, but refused to admit, even to herself.

"I'm sorry..." She whimpered again for good measure, although now her breaths were coming deep, and fast for another reason.

"I know." He purred as he traced his finger tip down her face, and then over her neck. He eyed the soft, smooth flesh as her head tilted allowingly to the side, eyes fluttering closed in helpless submission. Something of lust overcame him as he felt her pulse beneath his fingertip, her body trembling ever so slightly in want, and terror.

He placed a light kiss on her bare shoulder, wrapping his arms securely around her waist, and feeling her shiver against him. He trailed his kisses to the place where he could feel her pulse the strongest on his lips, and her eyes opened, sensing that something had changed. She was aware that she should move, that she should escape, but she could not grasp the desire to, and besides: She was caught anyway. There was nothing she could do. What good would panicing serve her?

A moan birthed within her throat as he concentrated on the point, pressing her even closer to him, if it was possible, and squishing the sensitive rounds of her bust against his chest, sending a sharp sensation through her that she couldn't register as pain, but didn't automatically register as pleasure, either. She whimpered as her arms lay limply at her sides, and he worked his magic on her.

Suddenly, a wave of pleasure hit her as she felt his teeth, like two small needles, penetrate her skin. She took in a gasp, and tried to reach up to cling to him as he drank of the blood within her flesh, so slowly, throwing her into an oblivion that nothing short of this could send her. She squeezed her eyes closed as she tried to convince herself to fight this, it felt so... wrong, but she just couldn't. It wasn't long until she was overcome in the sensation, and locked in his arms as she watched his eyes glow, and his skin become vibrant with the essence of her.

The last thing she remembered of that night was the realization that she had given herself to a vampire, over a fey, and as crimson liquid touched her lips, she felt the heightened pleasure of giving all of herself, and taking it back. Over, and over, and over their blood flowed between them, until finally, the sharp pleasure won, and she passed out.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **_Everyone knows the disclaimer thingy, so I'll just skip past that._

_YAY! Chapter seven, and two reviews! Happy!_

_...Anyways. What does everyone think, hmmmmm? Jareth into a vampire good? Bad? I dunno... I'm obsessed with vampires, so I guess it was a given that vampirism would find it's way into this **somehow**. It was either this, or use the constant "Seduced by a vampire" thing, and **everyones** used that. Granted, a blood drinking Jareth isn't altogether new, either, but most people don't have him as a full vampire, so-- so-- yeah. I'll think up of an excuse!_

_...Tomorrow..._


	8. Cruel

Chapter Eight

Tara woke up with the worst headache in the history of mankind. She was in so much pain that it hurt to try to remember what had happened the night before. She scowled at the false moonlight as it poured in her window, and rolled over on the bed, closing her eyes-- gently, so as not to worsen the migrane. Thankfully, she was alone, and she assumed that she would be for the duration of the pain. She covered her head with the pillow, moaning quietly as something poked at her tender brain. She gripped the soft object as the pain gave way to the thing, and she was left numb.

She blinked a couple of times and sat up, rubbing her eyes, and trying to remember the night before. The ball... her brother... he had been making her think strange things but... but Jareth interfered... so angry... and then..." Her eyes widened in sudden realization, and she lept out of the bed despite how her bare legs protested. She didn't notice the cold against her skin until she was examining her neck in the mirror, where two small puncture wounds decorated the white over her vein.

Her eyes traveled downwards, and her eyes narrowed as they rested momentarily on the swell of her bare breasts. She had been undressed before she was put to bed.

"Good evening." Jareth hissed silkily, so closely to her that she leapt nearly a foot in the air, and stared at him in utter horror as he stood not a foot away from her. "I trust you slept well?" He wore a cocky smirk as she tried to take a step back, but his arm shot around her waist, crushing her again to him.

She instantly faught to free herself, her nudity not helping her case as he merely smirked down on her, but she was weakened by the previous migrane. "LET ME GO!" She shrieked, the image of how he controled her by adding his own dishonorable lust to her own unavoidable attraction to him. She remembered what he had done to her in that brief time of submission, and it wasn't going to happen again.

"Oh do struggle," He purred arrogantly, "It isn't entirely unpleasurable..."

Her eyes widened at the pure gall of his words, and she stood deadly still, blinking as he held her. He laughed, chest heaving against her, and she bit her lip to stop the way the simple motion was making her feel. He merely grinned at her reaction, causing her to hide her face in his chest in sheer embaracement.

"You never answered my question." He stated, "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine." She muttered lowly, just wanting him to shut up and leave her alone.

"Mmm..." He chuckled, leaning her into him as she blinked distractedly, biting her lower lip to stifle a moan that had been completely unprevoked, but not born out of nothingess. A seering jolt of sharp pleasure shot through her, orginating from where his now bare hands gripped the squall of her back. Vaguely she wondered where his gloves had gone, but it wasn't the most important thing one could contemplate at the moment. He smirked knowingly as he looked her over, "You look uncomfortable, Tara. Perhaps if I were in the same--"

"No--" bit out an argument instantly, but instantly was too late. Suddenly, she felt skin pressed against every inch of her own skin, and she was overwelmed by the sensation flooding her thoughts. She groaned discontentedly as she clawed at some sort of cloth to latch onto, but it was useless. It wasn't long before she was out cold again.

When she woke again, she found herself in the same bed she had been in perhaps fifteen minutes before, but the pain was entirely gone, and she was dressed now. For a moment she wondered if it had been just a dream, but as she stared at the arrogant smirk across the lips of the Goblin King as he spoke to the fae advisor before him, Damien, she knew it wasn't. She groaned mentally, but could not manage the feat of actually making the sound. Neither could she hear a word above her.

"You did -WHAT-!" Damien cried, frantic as Jareth explained to him what had happened the night before over Taras drugged up form.

"Calm down, Damien." Jareth growled, turning away from both of them to glare out the window at the moon, hands knit in his hair on the back of his head as if reclined. "I'm worried enough by myself."

"But Jareth!" Damien darted around the bed to stand by his side, staring up at his seemingly much bigger form in shock and horror. "YOU -BIT- THE GIRL!" When Jareth didn't respond, he growled, and gave him a shove he knew wouldn't effect the king. "JARETH!"

"I am your lord," He growled, turning toward the younger fae, "And you will adress me as such! Is this understood!"

Damien backed up as if he had been slapped, causing a moment of guilt in the almighty goblin king before he turned back to the window. "I have the matters under control. I will train her in the ways of the vampire. She will become a stronger weapon than any of the past," He paused to look back at the man, devilish eyes glittering, "And she will last forever."

Tara groaned as her hearing began to come back to her, in the form of a dull buzzing sound. She felt like she wanted to die as she lay there in that bed, watching the painful confrontation between advisor, and king-- but over that, friends.

What kind of a king was Jareth that he hurt his friends?

She turned away from them as he turned to look at her, thanks to the sound she had made. She didn't want to look at the monster that had aroused such-- such -feelings- before she realized what he was. For the first, though she knew it wouldn't be the last, time, she wanted to go home.

She flinched away from his soft touch as he put a hand on her arm, causing him to frown, though he changed it instantly into a displeased scowl. Who was she to deny him? In a rage, he clamped his hand down tightly on her arm with a grip that should have hurt her, should have bruised her-- but the pain was minimal. A tingle, if that. Meant only to prove that he was in charge.

She could still feel his gaze on her back as he ordered monotonously for Damien to leave. She wanted to get up, to protest, but she couldn't move.

She watched Damien leave in silence, because she couldn't speak. The look of sorrow and pity that crossed his face as he left their presense burned her deep inside. She knew it was meant for her, and that scared her in a way she didn't want to face.

But she was forced to. Jareth pushed her onto her back, and climbed on top of her, blonde hair wild over him. Rage, and lust weren't the only things she could recognize in his eyes, but she dared not examine the rest. "Allow me to explain something to you." He growled as he stared down, into her. "I am your master now, in so many more ways than one. You -will- obey me."

She wanted to spit in his face. She wanted to slap him. To throw herself upwards, and bruise that over inflated... ego of his. But she couldn't move. It was as if her muscles had staged a mutany, and won. Tears built up in her eyes as she realized what was happening.

He was controlling her. Pulling her strings as if she was a puppet, and watching her dance.

"Now," He growled, eyes still boring into hers, "Is this clear?" Her head nodded against her will, and he smirked at her.

"I hate you." She whispered, but he leaned over her so their chests were pushed together, his lips tinglingly close to her neck as his breath washed over his ear. He was being so viciously kind the tears rolled over Tara's cheeks, and he kissed them away with all the gentleness a man has for his lover.

"I know." He finally whispered to her, nuzzling into her ear, "But I expect that will change in time."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ Disclaimer thingy! I do not own Jareth, and am not doing this for a profit-- I'm doing it because I have way too much time on my hands, and because I like the reviews that I'm not getting. -hint- -hint-_

_No, I didn't forget about this story, I just got a temporary life. Heh... lol, yeah. Just review, please?_


	9. Linked

Chapter Nine

Somewhere far away from where Tara slept, a young girl opened her eyes, wincing at the harshness of the sun upon her eyes. She pulled the covers over her head with a groan, wondering what had woken her up.

It was that dream again. The same dream she'd been having for the past month, or so. The dream about the woman her age, and a little blonde child, stuck in a kingdom of goblins and magic. She herself doubted she would mind, but the young woman was fighting every step of the way, though the child was perfectly content.

She pressed her eyelids closed for a moment, trying to figure out what day it was, and whether or not she'd have to get up to go to school.

Before she could remember the day, her alarm clock went off, the sound of it tearing through her mind like that of a fire engine siren. She groaned, and slammed her fist down on the sleep button, muttering to herself all the while.

Xanthes eyes shot open, and she scrambled out of the small bed that she and two of the softer goblins shared-- they were acting as teddy bears. They started ranting something at her as small feet touched the cold stone floor, probably an attempt to get her back in bed, but she ignored them. She needed to find Tara.

She tiptoed to the doorway of her small, far less extravagant room than Taras, turning toward the goblins.

"Shhhh." She whispered, "We're playing a game."

"What kind of game?" One of the little goblins asked, eyes wide with excitement.

"Well, I'm going to see how far I can go without being noticed." Xanthe exclaimed, "But I need you to be quiet so they don't realize I'm out of bed."

"Oh-- Okay!" The goblins whispered, nodding enthusiastically as they lay back down.

Now not having to deal with the goblins getting her caught, Xanthe stuck her head out the door, and looked up and down the hall. Once content that she wasn't going to get caught, she tiptoed out, and broke into a run, nearly throwing herself into the door at the other end of the hall. She took a deep breath to calm her breath, and bit down on her tongue, concentrating on opening the door without making too much noise.

It opened a little, and she looked through it. There were two goblins standing guard, probably more for if Tara came to kidnap her back than to make sure she didn't try to escape. She frowned, and looked around in thought before the lightbulb went on over her head. She took off one of her silver (because plastic was far to expensive) rings, and slipped behind the door. She took a deep, calming breath, and threw the ring as far as she could.

"What was that!" One of the goblins cried out.

"What was what?" Asked the other, blinking.

"That noise!"

"What noise?"

Xanthe bit her lip, and wondered why goblins had to be so dumb. She removed another ring, and threw that one as well, making a double clang as it knocked against the first ring.

"That noise!"

"Oh, that noise!"

The two goblins rushed through the door to investigate, and Xanthe ran through while their backs were turned.

She ran through a second door without time to check what was behind it, and let out a cry of triumph despite herself. She gasped, and covered her mouth, shutting the door as she slowly turned around.

There, before her, was Damien.

"Xanthe!" Tara cried out, sitting bolt upright, and then reeling back to the bed with the pain and dizziness of such a drastic change.

"I suppose you'll take that as a lesson." Jareth stated blandly, not even bothering to open his eyes or move his arm from her waist to speak. "It isn't wise to try to get up so soon after waking. You've just witnessed the effects first hand..."

"What have you done to Xanthe!" She demanded, ignoring the fact that he had been talking entirely.

"I assure you I do not know what you mean." He drawled in the same tone, "Do go back to sleep... You will need your rest for tomorrows practice."

She felt her eyelids get heavy regardless of how she tried to fight it, but shook her head vigerously, trying to shake it off. "Grrr-- NO! I want to see Xanthe! Right now, you son of a bitch!" She jolted out of the bed, only to collapse in a heap on the cold floor.

Damien walked in at this unfortunate moment, dragging Xanthe, arms tied behind her, with him. "Your highness." He adressed the still relaxed goblin king with a low bow. "I found this wandering around outside her quarters."

"TARA!" Xanthe cried out, trying in vain to get away from her capter. "LET ME GO! TARA! TARA!"

"Speak of the devil..." Jareth grumbled, finally opening his eyes and lifting his upper body away from the matress. "Let the girl go, Damien. My servant hasn't shut up since she came here because she wanted to see her."

Tara was just so happy to have Xanthe in her arms, limp as they may be, that she didn't even notice that Jareth had regarded her as 'his servant'. It was his minor victory.

"Calm her down, Tara, and send her back to bed." Jareth commanded, "You need rest."

A tear slipped down Tara's face, but she wiped it away before lifting Xanthe to face her, smoothing away the childs own tears with her thumb. "What's the matter, princess?" She asked gently, working on undoing the binds on her hands.

"I had a bad dream." The little girl whimpered, "There was a lady. She knew where we were, but she thought we were just dreams. The alarm clock was so loud..."

Tara froze, eyes drifting from her task to her nieces teary eyed gaze. This was the dream she had had before she saw Damien finding Xanthe. "What did the lady look like?" She asked as gently as she could, not aware of the two masculine stares on them as she dropped the ropes, and moved her hands to the girls face, caressing her cheeks and holding her so she couldn't look away. "Xanthe, love, I'm serious. What did the lady look like?"

"She had red hair." Xanthe sniffled, "She had to go to school."

Taras face visually paled, and she looked instinctively to Jareth, pulling Tracey into a tight embrace. She hoped, and she prayed that her king had answers, but it appeared that he did not. He looked away, and she lowered her gaze to the floor behind her niece, still holding her close.

"I want Xanthe to sleep with me tonight." She requested once the child had fallen asleep in her arms. She looked up pleadingly at Jareth from her place on the stone floor. "Please..." She knew that playing the loyal servant could get her a lot, and right now, the only thing she wanted was Xanthe. Her pride no longer mattered.

"What have you done to earn such an allowance?" He asked coldly, looking down on her in all matters.

"I've..." She tried, but could think of nothing. She'd faught, and faught, and faught, the entire time she was here. Now was it time to pay for it? Would he really make her pay so dearly? She knew he could be cruel.

"Xanthe needs me." She pled instead of trying to use herself. "My lord..." She added in for good measure.

"Then what will you give me, your lord, in return?" He questioned dryly, lifting an eyebrow over one mismatched eye as if challenging her to think of something to use. "Perhaps we can arrange a... trade." The tears in her eyes were not lost upon him as she swore obediance without argument. He knew her Xanthe was a powerful weapon against her.

"Very well." He stated lowly, "I can be generous, Tara. But do not forget our trade, for if you dishonor it, the price will be great."

"Of course, my lord..."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ Disclaimer thingy! No, Jareth doesn't belong to me! But the mystery lady, and Xanthe, and Tara -do-!_

_Yes, this is another short chappie. Sorry! Needed to post -something-!_

_And I'd like to thank telekinetic91 for telling me why I wasn't getting any reviews. I didn't even know I was blocking anonymous reviews! So, yeah. Everyone bow down to telkinetic91!_


	10. The Full One Eighty

Chapter Nine

When morning came Tara would have continued to sleep had Xanthe not stirred in her arms. When she opened her eyes, she wished that she had not. She hadn't been kidnapped, but Jareth was no longer lying by her side. He was in the doorway, head low as if in defeat. Bruises and gashes lined his pale, marble like chest. Behind him was the shadowy form of a person, and she could distinctly saw pointed ears on the dark head. Her eyes fluttered closed as her mind reeled. Trying to think of escape plans this early in the morning wasn't pleasant.

She casually wrapped her arms around the girl, and rolled over so her back was facing them, and she was facing the window. She waited a moment, listening carefully to all the sounds around her as Xanthe woke with a quiet groan. Not hearing any other sounds, she opened her eyes again, pleased to see that there were no elves in front of her now. Her eyes locked on the window that Jareth had previously stared out of, and then on the balcony outside of it.

In a sudden movement that must have shocked the elf, as well as Jareth, quite thoroughly she leapt out of the bed, Xanthe in tow. She ignored the dizziness the swiftness brought-- she couldn't afford to let it get to her now.

She threw herself backwards through the window so the glass shards wouldn't hurt the child she awkwardly held, watching seven elves flood into the room, pushing Jareth out of the way. She didn't let herself stop to gawk. She whirled around again, and took a leap of faith off of the balconey.

They seemed to fall forever, clinging to each other for dear life.

Xanthe fell asleep, or so it seemed, but though Tara felt a sense of overwelming calm, she stayed concious, and was concious when they landed surprisingly softly on concrete.

She stood, lifting her niece up to cradle her rather than to hold her as awkwardly as she had been. Looking around, she held he breath, daring to hope only for a moment. The buildings were so tall... The people around them were so tall... so smooth... they certainly weren't goblins. A couple of them were now staring at the sky to see where she had come from. Still more were staring at her clothes.

"Excuse me," She asked, going to one of the people who was staring at her. She didn't care if they thought she was insane! She was back on the above ground-- with Xanthe! "Where are we? I'm afraid I'm lost..."

But the person rushed away from her as if afraid she'd kill her or something. She frowned, and looked at the people around her before sighing, and starting to walk. Her bare feet stung against the black pavement of roads, walking in between cars-- every one of which seemed to be honking. The sound of it made her want to scream, but little Xanthe never woke. She knew this scene. She knew she did-- so well-- and yet she couldn't remember. She looked over every familiar object with blank eyes.

Then she stopped in front of a house, probably the most familiar place in the entire city. She had strayed from the traffic and into what appeared to be a residential area, not far from a beaten down park.

She took a step as a person came out of the house. It was her brother. She recognized him, at least, and with the site of him her entire surroundings seemed to come into focus. She was in New York, and now at home. She shifted her niece to wake her, and ran for the door. Jason stopped her to look adoringly at his daughter, showering kisses over her forehead as she scowled up at him.

"Does this mean playtime's over?" She wondered childishly, and Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, Xanthe, Play time's over. C'mon, let's get inside." She smiled broadly at her brother, and pushed into the room.

"Mom!" Jason cried, "MOM! They're home! They've come home!"

A woman, elegant despite her rather large size and short hair ran down the stairs to greet them. She nearly crushed poor Xanthe as she hugged them both to her, tears streaming down her face. "We were so worried!" She sobbed, "So worried!"

"It's okay mom. We're home." Tara muttered through tears of her own.

"What's the matter mom mom? We had fun with the goblins!" The youngest asked, blinking.

"She had a dream." The teenager quickly covered, and then scowled over her mothers shoulder at the only figure that didn't seem delighted to see them.

Kristen, the girlfriend of her brother, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her dirty blonde hair fashionably cut to her chin, except over her face where she had cut the bangs short, though her dark roots were showing. Her makeup was, as always, trashy, and her clothes were at least two sizes too small. They could have fit on Xanthe. Her ass hadn't shrunk any, sticking out behind her like a double tree stump and straining the cloth of her daughters shorts.

Tara already wanted to smack her. The look on her face was not of happiness to see her daughter and would be sister in law, but discontent that the attention was taken off of her. Everyone, even those who had been absent, knew that she had been using the disappearance to rake in as much pity as she could.

"Xanthe," The woman spoke not of Tara, "I'm so glad to see you're safe!"

"Liar." Tara thought, but said nothing as she set the girl down, and looked to the stairs. "We need to change. Do you mind?"

"Of course not." Both her mother and brother allowed.

"Take as much time as you need!" Her mother added, "But I want to know what happened when you're done. God-- we were so scared..."

"I know." Tara sighed, and took Xanthe by the hand, sending a glare at Kristen as she went, and lead her upstairs. They went into Xanthe's room first, picked up a more modern outfit for her, and then went into Tara's room to change. Tara, of course, chose a black tank top and black long skirt, not ready to go back to pants yet. Xanthe on the other hand was perfectly fine with the soft pink pants, and sweater.

They had only been gone for moments, but at the head of the staircase, Tara had a very bad feeling. She instructed Xanthe to wait as quietly as she could in her room, and took a cautious step onto the first step. She closed her eyes, and listened to the vague shouting from in the kitchen. Good, she could get down the stairs and not be seen if they were in there. She tip toed down the stairs, and knelt at the bottom one, searching the living room with her gaze first before peering into the crack where the door met the door frame.

The shouting stopped before she could understand a word, and she smelled blood. She licked her lips subconciously, and leaned toward the scent. Then, wincing in horror, she saw the flood of crimson meet the carpet of the living room.

"Our job here is done." Stated a voice she didn't recognize, but sounded so familiar. "They obviously didn't come home. Let's go."

She saw the shadow coming toward the door, and stood, scrambling madly up the stairs, but one creaked. Her gaze darted back down and she got a glimpse of three people. One was Kristen, and the others were male elves. One of which she recognized as the first elf she'd ever actually seen.

"I told you she was here!" Kristen shrieked, and Tara started running again. She threw herself into Xanthes room, and locked the door behind her, grabbing the girls arm and going over to the window.

There was no balcony to catch them, and no tree to climb down, but they had to get out. An idea hit her, and she instructed the little girl to climb onto her back and hold on to her neck for dear life. She climbed out the window, and stood on the window frame, looking around. Looking up, the edge of the roof was in reach.

Could she pull them both up?

She heard footsteps in the hall. The door to the room next to Xanthes was kicked open. She didn't have a choice. She'd have to try.

Without farther hesitation, she reached up to the edge of the roof, and climbed (with difficulty) onto it, panting once she'd reached a semi-solid floor. She let her niece off of her, and told her to be quiet, and even held her breath as she heard the door to her room burst open.

They edged away from the side of the roof, and huddled together as one of the elves stuck their head out the window to look around.

"They're not here." He reported, leaning back into the room, and looking at the others.

"You saw her!" Kristen defended. "You saw her! You know she was here! I don't know where she went, but--"

"We don't know what we saw." Stated the elf that she had once seen. she held Xanthe tighter when the sound of the womans panicked protests met us, and even tighter still when they stopped abruptly, and she smelled blood.

They waited for a full ten minutes before Tara swung the child back into her room, suddenly thankful that she had voted that her bed be near the window. She didn't hesitate for a moment before swinging in herself, and edging a now crying Xanthe around the beheaded body of her mother. Tara, showed much less remorse for the woman, going so far as to kick her head out of her way.

They set immediately to packing (in Tara's room so Xanthe wouldn't have to keep looking at her dead mothers body), and only when two book bags were nearly bursting with clothes and Taras credit card/money did they leave the room.

They went downstairs, and Tara couldn't help but take one last look at the blood that now soaked the rug near the door into the kitchen. She clamped her jaw shut in self control. She could cry later, she could rage, and scream later. At the moment she had to protect Xanthe. Get her to safety. Nothing else mattered anymore.

She turned to the door, took the little girls hand, and led her out into the daylight, knowing full well that it was a rough road ahead of them. If only she hadn't left the Underground... then at least she'd have a family.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ Insert the obvious disclaimer thingy HERE._

_lol_

_By the way, if I didn't get it past well enough, Jason was Tara's brother. _

_This chapter would have been a hell ofa lot longer, except I figured this was a good place to end it, and I had enough stuff happening already. More than enough, really..._

_Oh yeah-- and I'm hosting a contest! The tenth reviewer will get... uh... invisable confetti! Yeah! I'll spray invisable confetti over you, and you can brag about being the lucky ten and... well... yeah._

_Just review (please?)..._


	11. Dancing Queen

Chapter Eleven

The roads were long, and dangers were everywhere, but Tara and Xanthe survived well enough. Although they were surrounded by those who would do them harm, they seemed to be repelled. Tara thought nothing of it, although where the pendent she'd gotten in the Labyrinth rested on her chest was getting awfully hot.

They seemed to walk in silence forever, until the sun began to set. With the darkness approaching, they started to turn their attention instead to finding some place to stay.

Walking up to random houses was, of course, out of the question, and Tara would be damned if her beloved was sleeping out in the cold. So she walked them to the door of a rather cheap, and trashy looking motel. Rooms here were thirty four dollars a night. She could handle it.

She paid the thirty four dollars to the greasy looking man behind the counter, and ushered Xanthe out of the office and into one of the rooms.

The room was worth less than what she paid. The wall paper was peeling off of the walls, and the picture between the filth infested was crooked. The lightbulb in two of the lamps had popped, leaving only the sludge smeered one under the picture to illuminate the room. The TV simply didn't work, and there were dots of white all over the room.

She didn't dare check the bathroom to see what she would find.

She sighed, and turned to Xanthe after her silent synopsis of the room. The poor little girls eyes were wide, and filled with tears. The sight made her aunt want to cry, and so she pulled the little girl into her arms, holding her tight and refusing to look at her again.

"It's okay, angel." She whispered soothingly, rubbing the girls back. "We're going to be okay."

The next morning, Xanthe shook her aunt awake around six in the morning. "Tara," She whispered, "Tara! I have a bad feeling!"

"Hmm?" Tara groaned, and opened her eyes to stare into those of her beloved. She sighed heavily, and rolled onto her back before nodding, and climbing out of the bed. She pulled on a pair of black pants from her bag, but let her pajama top act as a shirt. She doubted that she had time to change completely.

She took the younger girl by the hand, and peered out the peep hole cautiously. The parking lot was empty but for two identical red cars, parked next to each other. The outside seemed to be dead. The sun had yet to rise. There was no better time to leave.

The instant she swung the door open, a sense of dread over came her. She had made a very big mistake-- but it was too late to turn back now. Holding Xanthe's hand tight, she took off running across the parking lot, acutely aware of two more sets of footsteps joining behind them. She stopped dead as an elf appeared in front of her, and turned, only to find herself trapped. She whirled around and ran the other way, pushing past the elf this time, and continuing to run, Xanthe's hand still clutched in hers.

She slammed against one of the red cars, yanked the door open, and shoved Xanthe inside. She didn't know how she did it, but she leapt over the car, and leapt into the passengers seat. She glanced in the back seat to make sure there were no elves waiting for her to take off with them in the car, and then started searching frantically for the keys.

"Shit.." She whimpered as elves swarmed around the car. "Where are they!"

"Tara?" Xanthe asked innocently, and she looked up to look at her niece. Relief filled her eyes at the sight of the keys in the little girls small hands, and she snatched them away, and slammed one into the slot. She twisted it, and suddenly remembered that she hadn't gone into drivers ed classes yet.

"NO!" She cried out in pure aggrivation, locking all the doors with the push of a button, and decided to play it by ear. She shifted gears to the R, and hit one of the pedals. They didn't move.

Oops. That must be the breaks. Good to know.

She switched pedals, and they sped backwards, tires screaching against the tar, and car bouncing as she ran over elves. She slammed on the breaks, remembered to put her seatbelt on, and switch gears. In an instant, they were plowing through elves, and then through the motel. Xanthe screamed in protest as they crashed through the wall, and kept on going.

After a while of driving down this abandoned street after the other at speeds that far exceeded the speed limit, Tara adjusted to actually driving rather than sitting in the passenger seat of a car.

She slowed down, and turned onto the highway. They were going somewhere. Where...? She didn't know. They just had to move. After time, when Tara glanced over, her little angel was fast asleep. A sigh escaped her lips, and she looked forward again, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Things were calm for now, but no one knew how long that would last. Not even the elves. She would have to figure out a plan of escape for the next time the they came. She'd been able to wing it so far, but how long would her luck last? She wasn't willing to leave this to chance any more. They'd have to go into hiding. A secure hiding.

The young woman the pair had dreampt about pushed out of the crowd highschool teenagers, making her way to her school bus and muttering about how thankful she'd be when she earned her permit this year.

"Ouh!" She cried out as a boy knocked into her, sending the binder in her arms flying. She glared after the boy as he just ran off the way they always did, but made no attempt to chase him down. She sighed, and bent over to pick up the papers that had flown everywhere. She grunted now and then as her careless classmates kicked her in their passing, but growled out loud when a booted foot came straight down on the paper she had just reached for, and wasn't moving.

She looked up, and stared into cobalt blue eyes, framed by hair more golden then any she'd ever seen.

She didn't know what came over her, but the papers she'd collected fell out of her arms, forgotten. Time seemed to stand still as they matched wills through eyes. She pushed firey red hair out of her face, and suddenly, she was running. She had reached the end of the bus loop before she even realized she was moving, and had crossed the street before she realized that she didn't know why she was running.

Somewhere in her mind, she confirmed that it didn't matter. Her instincts had never done her wrong before.

She glanced back, and laughed out loud to find that the strange person had tried to follow her, but that the cars of the street had adaquately cut him off. She shook her head lightly, grin not fading as she retook her run down the street. She pulled the rubber band doing a poor job of keeping her hair out of her face, out of her hair, and let the wind comb through it. She felt like she was flying. The wind whipped through the bright red strands of her hair, and tears of laughter were building in her vivid green eyes.

"I'm free!" She boasted, throwing her arms out and shedding her book bag in the street, caught up in the moment. Air whipped the fabric of her sleeves about her arms, and she let her head fall back, stopping in the middle of the street to dance about in circles, laughing.

She wasn't known for her carefree nature. She had let something go, and she could feel it deep in her heart. It was an advancement she felt the urge to celebrate, and let ANYONE hear!

"In lighter news," the man of the radio station went on in his deep voice, and Tara glanced down at the black radio boredly. "People really are dancing in the streets, here in Pittsburg today. A teenaged girl was found dancing around in circles on Lemonton avenue as if she had gone insane. Witnesses report that she suddenly broke free of her restraints, and ran out of her Pittsburg High and straight across the street with no apparent reason. The young girl who's name is not yet to be released is currently in the police station, although she has not formerly been arrested. Jane, what do you think?"

"Well, Tom, I think..."

Tara turned off the radio with a flick of her wrist. Something seemed off about this 'street dancer', but she couldn't quite figure out what it was...

"I'm not insane!" Yelled the beautiful redhead as she glared at one of the officers over thin sun glasses. "And if that's not what you're trying to get at, just what is it you -are- trying to get at!"

The whole police station had turned out to hear the girls story. It wasn't often that you found a teenage girl running the streets, particularly one as rich as miss Cryssandra Belli. Everyone knew her parents before they died in that questionable car wreck-- it was hard not to. They owned half the city. She lived with her grandparents now-- the only people in the city that were richer than her. She had a reputation to keep up, and so her name was not released to the press.

In time she'd be put away in some secret mansion behind some secret hill. Until then she was in their custody.

"We're not trying to 'get at' anything, Miss Belli," sighed the third officer that had tried to adress her. "We just want to figure out what is happening. You say there was a man on the school grounds? Could you describe him for us again."

Cryssandra rolled her eyes back in her head. "I already told you," She snarled, voice low in her throat, and gutteral, "I didn't get a good look at the guy." She was an excellant liar.

"Miss Belli, are you aware that this is your fifth trip to the police station, this month alone?" Intervened one of the observing officers, leaving his place against the wall to lean against the table at which the teenager sat.

"No," She retorted sarcastically, "I suddenly took on a terrible case of amnesia. Who was I again?"

"We're not going to get anything more out of her than we got the past four times." Cried the first officer, throwing his hands into the air, "She's just too stubborn!"

"Can I go home now?" Cryssandra sighed, lifting an eyebrow at the people around her as she leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. "My bail, if I'm actually arrested for once, will most assuredly be paid."

"Someone call her grandmother." The officer before her ordered, giving up on the quest for information.

"At last the dancing queen of the streets has been given a name," Stated the man from the radio, causing Tara to stomp on her breaks and stare at the device in shock and horror. She was sure she had turned it off! "She may not be seventeen but everyone knows this gorgeous dancing queen! That's right, Cryssandra Belli has just been released from custody and will be returning home after such an exhausting day."

Xanthe looked over at her aunt groggily, "Tara? Why are you so pale?"

Tara glanced around her at the trafic, and resumed driving, and breathing as she snapped the radio off again, and shook her head. "Nothing, sweet pea, go back to sleep."

She glanced over as the child shrugged, and watched her out of the corner of her eye until the little girl fell asleep before turning off of the highway, eyes narrowed as they locked on the road. She intended to find this police station, and thus the teenager who turned her radio back on to hear some kind of information.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_NO reviews? Wow... that's kinda sad._

_Oh, and insert the obvious stuff here. I don't own the Labyrinth, blah, blah, blah._

_However, I actually do own everything in this chapter. Wow. Scary._

_Y'know, if you don't like the way this story is heading you can review and yell at me for it! I prolly won't pay attention, because I actually have a PLAN for this story now, but you can still yell at me, and I'll take your issues into consideration!_


	12. Kings, Knights, and a Damsel In Distress

Chapter Twelve

The police submitted no information to Tara, and so she resolved to simply search the old fashioned way. While there she went through the phone book at the pay phone, but there was no Cryssandra Belli listed. The Belli -industries- however, was.  
She dialed the number, and pressed the phone irritably to her ear, watching Xanthe as she listened to it ring. The little girl was currently sitting beside one of the larger of the officers, and chatting merily with him as she eyed the donuts on his desk. This, of course, was an action that the officer refused to acknowledge. That way, he didn't have to hand any over to the child.

"Hello?" Tara asked hopefully as a monotonous woman picked up the phone. "Is this Crysandra Belli"

"No," Dralled the woman, "This is Elenor of the Belli Industries of Fashionable Dresses"

"I need to talk to Crysandra Belli." Tara cut her off before she could go on to ask her to state her business. "This is urgent"

"Miss Crysandra isn't here." The woman titled Elenor yawned. "I'm sorry." The phone clicked.

Tara's jaw dropped. She'd just been hung up on for no apparent reason! She growled as the electronic voice asked her for two more dimes, and she slammed the phone back onto the reciever. She blinked, and lept back as it began ringing.

She glanced at the other officers, who seemed to hear nothing before picking the phone back up, and putting it cautiously to her ear. She felt like she was in some old horror movie, and half expected to hear something about a murderer being on the second floor of her house! Instead, it was a familiar voice on the end of the line. High pitched, and shakey.

"Lady Tara?" Asked the Goblin, "Is this Lady Tara"

"This is Tara." The girl muttered, amazed, and wide eyed. She glanced again around her at the officers who still noticed nothing.

"Give me that." She heard Jareth demand on the other end, and then he spoke to her. "Tara, you are quite alright I presume?" Despite his attempts to keep his voice emotionless, he couldn't hide the sigh he gave out when she assured him that she was.

"Why haven't you taken us back to the--" She glanced around her at the people, "back home? Do you think we enjoy running away from--" another glance, "people at all manners of the day"

"You are wearing the pendant?"

Tara looked down at her chest where, indeed, the beautful pendant rested. "Yeah." She confirmed moodily.

"They will not touch you"

"But why haven't you brought us back?" She demanded, probably louder than she should have. "You're supposed to be protecting us, aren't you! You're the ones they hate, they don't need to take it out on us!" She was taking the needed opportunity to rant. "Because of you my entire world has been turned upside down"

"Yell on, pet." He cooed almost boredly, "I'm sure you want the knights around you to hear"

"Knights!" Tara retorted, "KNIGHTS!" She shook it off, and hung up the phone. It merely rung again. She hmphed, and turned away from it, and grabbed Xanthe's hand, as well as two donuts, in passing. The little girls eyes lit up as one sugary pastery was handed to her, phone still ringing as the cop stared after them. "Well... guess you can have a couple." He muttered dismisively, too lazy to persue such a trivial matter as stolen donuts.

"Tara?" Xanthe asked curiously, glancing at her aunt as they climbed into the car. "Why are you angry"

"Heh." Was Tara's only response as she turned on the car. The radio flipped on, and Jareth's voice overcame the music that would have played.

"You have to listen to me sooner or later pet, and I'm sure you would prefer sooner"

"UGH!" Tara cried out, and changed the radio channel, but it was no different from the first. She tried turning the radio off, but it wouldn't go. All the while Jareth waited patiently.

"Are you finished?" He questioned elegantly as she leaned back in her chair and resolved to simply glare at the traitorous device. She could just imagine him lounging in his filthy throne and twirling three crystals in his fingers. Three alone, because one had come to her, and she was dreaming all of this.

"I hate you." She snapped, and hit the gas, deciding that she might as well drive as he talked. She nearly ran into the police station, having shifted into reverse by mistake, and growled. Changing to drive, she sped out of the parking lot, not caring whether or not she was stalked down just to get a ticket. She could rant to them about how the goblin king wouldn't leave her alone. Could elves get into insane asylums?

"I am sure." Stated the king, sounding amused, "But I expect that to change shortly"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tara retorted, temper high, and brave in her rage.

"It means I am about to help you, dearest Tara." He stated as if stifling a laugh. "My observers"

"You mean your goblin SPIES." She corrected bitterly, and this time he did laugh-- as did Xanthe. Tara grit her teeth together, and narrowed her eyes on the road.

"My observers," He went on as if he hadn't been interupted, "Have found the third piece of the trinity"

"Whoopdy do." She grumbled, "So have we. Wow. What a coincidence"

"Tara, be quiet and let me speak." She opened her mouth to protest, but found herself unable. She learned then that his magic wasn't limitted to the underground. "Ah, how nice." He mused, "Now, as I was saying. We have found the third piece of the trinity, and have tracked her down to the building she is about to enter. I believe that your power combined will be enough to transport you back to the underground.

"On that note, it is a very unfortunate thing that it is the Elves, for the most part, control the boundaries between dimensions. They seem to have closed off the underground from the aboveground, so there is nothing I can do to assist you, but offer my guidance.

"You should be advised that there are more dimensions than simply the above ground and the under ground. The Elven Empire has threatened to open the gates to these dimensions. The pendant you wear is designed to give you strength against elves, but will do nothing against the creatures of the middle ground, the elusive ground, and the permanant ground. I suggest you begin training as soon as possible.

"I will give you the knowlege of the girls whereabouts, and I will appear to her to insure that she will accept you into her quite hidden abode. Good luck"  
The moment Tara was allowed to speak again was the moment that the radio clicked itself off. She sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment, mumbling to herself as she opened them again and glared straight ahead.

"Isn't this fun!" Asked Xanthe, sounding absolutely delighted. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the older girl, and she grinned.

"Yeah. Fun."

"Oh my god!" Crys cried out, leaning away from her mirror as the form of an amused man appeared where her reflection had once been. She dropped her brush to the floor of the limosine she was sitting, alone, in the back of. Once the initial shock had warn off, her curiosity took over her, and she leaned toward the image, wide eyed. Jareth was quite a hansom man indeed, but with features too sharp for her liking.

She hmphed expertly, and gracefully snatched her brush from off the floor. She resumed the brushing of her hair.

"Hello, Crysandra." Jareth drawled, finding the scene rather amusing.

"Hello." She muttered indifferently.

"I am Jareth, the"

"Goblin king, I know." She rolled her eyes up to look at the mirror hanging off the ceiling. She smirked back at him as he grinned. "I take it you're here about this." She set her brush down carefully, and lifted her magenta coat sleeve away from her wrist, revealing what appeared too dark to be a burn, or birthmark, but too natural to be a tattoo. It was a design of some sort.

"Not today." He stated, amused. "Please, I mean you no harm. Put the mask down"

"Finally." Crys muttered without hesitation, and slouched in her seat, glancing out the windows first to ensure that none had seen her. "So what -do- you want if this isn't some strange questioning thingy about that thing"

"I have a favor to ask of you." He stated calmly, taking a moment to look over her relaxed position. "A woman and a child will be coming to your door shortly after you do. I would appreciate it if you looked out for them. Their names are"

"Tara Hamilton, and Xanthe Figeroa." Crys cut him off almost boredly. She followed the prediction with a wicked grin.

"Indeed." He stated with a grin of his own.

"They won't be turned away." She stated, stretching. "They need shelter, right? From the wierd blonde haired people that won't leave them alone." She paused, and added a bitter, "Or me, I might add." She shrugged, "They've never come to the mansion before. The girls'll be fine"

"I have one more request." The goblin king stated.

"Help them get back to the underground." She predicted again, and her grin broadened. "Sorry, I can't help myself some times. I've been having visions since this thingy appeared. Heard you talking to Tara. She doesn't like you much, does she"

"I believe she is upset at the moment"

She paused "Can't see why. I think I'd be overjoyed if I was wanted in the Goblin Kingdom that much. Or by the Goblin King that much, for that matter. Oh, but then she doesn't realize how much you feel for her." A pause, "Nor do you. Oops. Guess I let too much slide." She shrugged, and whipped out a lollipop.

He blinked at her, staring.

"You can go now." She stated with a grin, and closed the mirror. Ah, to play the matchmaker!

* * *

**Authors Notes: **_Okay. Somewhere along the line, this chapter went poof, so I had to erase what is now chapter thirteen to put THIS in. Sorry to anyone who read chapter thirteen over the month or so of my inactivity and noticed a rather unusual jump. Here's the missing piece._

_Reviews are appreciated!_


	13. Visualization

Chapter 13

Tara hesitated before raising her fist to knock on the grandly carved door. She glanced behind her at her niece, playing merrily in the gardens, before she even touched the wood. She took a deep breath, and brought herself to tap lightly on the door. She was certain she hadn't done it hard enough to be heard, but mere seconds later the door was swung open, revealing the beautiful foyer within.  
The floors, although a pattern of lightly colored hard wood, was shiny enough to see her own reflection off of. A chandalier of dangling crystals hung from the high ceiling, reflecting the sunlight into rainbows all over the room. There were high backed chairs, in velvet, pressed against the walls beside expensive looking, antique tables. She stopped looking the room over when she heard footsteps, and turned toward the curved, hardwood stairs. Walking down them were the most beautiful girl she had ever seen, her red hair contrasting shockingly against her pale skin, and her blue eyes staring out with the same effect.  
Over that, the girl had the look of someone who would help someone whether they had something to offer her or not, and that was the kind of person Tara needed to see.

"Hello," The girl stated, offering a hand, "You must be Tara and Xanthe. Jareth told me about you. I'm Crysandra Belli. It's a pleasure to meet you. Come in, come in! The elves won't find you here"

Tara glanced back at her niece, and called her silently to them. She answered by running up, and shaking Crys's still offered hand vigerously. Tara sighed, but their hostess only grinned, and moved out of the door so they could get in.

"I think we'll be spending a lot of time together, Xanthe." She stated kindly, "We're gonna be best friends."

Though she'd never admit it, Tara spent the next month or so scrambling about, trying to figure out how it was that they were supposed to get back to the Labyrinth. She still couldn't get used to the jeans of the past, so she ended up alternating the same skirt from before with a dress she had brought with her. Crys offered to go shopping for her, now that the big 'dancing queen' thing had died down quite a bit, but she kept refusing, claiming that they wouldn't be on that plane for so long that she'd have to go shopping. Crys and Xanthe, as Crys predicted, spent a lot of time together: thus prying Tara and her niece slowly apart. Crys was more energetic, more able to revert to who she was as a child, and thus be a decent play companion to the little girl.

The fact hurt Tara, of course. She missed her baby niece, for whom she'd risk her life, and during the week that her period came she had cried ceaselessly about it. Of course she never -told- them what it was that was bothering her, but they never stopped asking. Even when she hid it, her sadness radiated from her, and all that were close to her could feel it.

Even in the Labyrinth, Jareth could feel her pain. Of course, that was likely because he was constantly spying on her and the child in one of the heavy crystals that he bounced about his fingers like bubbles. The fact was that he missed her, though he'd swear that it was his toy that he truly missed. His watching her had nothing to do with the empty spot beside him in his bed (that had only been filled for one night) or the lack of trafficing in his castle. Even the goblins didn't seem to want to come in and mess up his throne room any more, and Damien sent him many annoyingly knowing looks when he passed.

Finally the time came when Tara gave up on finding the book, or the website that told her how to sneak to the underground. She sat before the mirror atop a vanity she hadn't realized was so ornate. She also didn't realize that it was through this mirror that Jareth was watching tonight.

"I just don't know what to do." She sighed to herself, staring into her own eyes via the mirror. Her hairbrush was left untouched as it always was in the night. She had no intentions of grooming herself. She sighed as she leaned toward the mirror, on her elboes. "I hate it here. I always have. But I can't get back to the labyrinth. I don't know how." She stretched out one hand, and touched it to the reflection of her eyes.

She knew instinctively that Jareth was on the other side, but she pushed the thought aside. It was a ridiculously childish, wishful thought.

And yet...

She frowned, eyebrows coming together as she made an attempt to push through the mirror. No, it was solid.

"Jareth?" She took in a shriek of a gasp, leaping backwards and knocking over her stool as a streak of white electricity seemed to go through the mirror, leaving it an image of none other than the goblin king. She stood there, dumbfounded as the man smirked down at her.

"Y-you can't"

"You called me here, dear Tara." Stated the king condescendingly. "Rather clever of you to figure it out, I'll grant you, but it took you a rather long stretch of time"

Her jaw dropped, and she suddenly had the urge to punch him, but she doubted her fist would hit him through the glass. She straightened herself out a bit, and crossed her arms over her chest, glad that she was wearing her skirt and blouse that particular day rather than her dress.

"I haven't figured anything out." She pouted, glaring at him, "Except that I can see you in my mirror. Which-- I might add-- doesn't make everything all better, unless a mirror can fight elves"

"You've nearly figured it all out, Tara." He stated calmly, "You merely need to think"

Tara growled as his image faded. She'd nearly figured it all out? She sighed, and walked over to the truly luxurious bed, and threw herself down on it, face down. She suddenly found that not only was she stuck in the above ground with no apparent method of getting back, but she was sexually frustrated too. Damned be the Goblin king.

Oh, she'd be having odd dreams tonight. That was for sure.

She sighed, and rolled onto her back, pressing her palms to her forehead. She had to think. He said she'd almost figured it out, so if she could just work through whatever it was that she'd nearly figured out, maybe she could get back.

She had made Jareth appear in the mirror by saying his name. Oh-- and she was touching it, too, wasn't she? So maybe if she touched the mirror and said "The underground", she could get there.

But it still left the problem that the mirror would still be solid. That could be why she needed the help of Crys and Xanthe-- to turn a picture into a portal. She paused, a slow grin coming to her face. She had figured it out! She had figured it out!  
"I've figured it out!" She cried, rising to her feet, and making a run for the door to wake the others and go right away. "I've figured it out! Before the elves got--" She opened the door, and suddenly realized one thing.

The elves were there.

Her gaze flickered behind the one in front where they held Crys and Xanthe, hands tied and gagged. "Oooooh shit." She groaned, and turned slowly to face the one who stood, smirking before her. She didn't have a chance to even think of fighting back, before something blunt hit her hard in the side of the head. She fell limply to the floor, listening to Xanthe's screams of protest as she began to fade from conciousness.  
"So she does care." She thought vaguely, before going out completely.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ Okay, so technically this is a repost... because I screwed up and left out a chapter... but it's back to normal now!_

_Reviews, as always, are wonderful!_


	14. Just Like Candy

Chapter Fourteen  
((This _is_ fourteen, right?))

Tara woke up in a dark, wet cell. The air was thick in her lungs, nearly suffocating her, but it seemed to be enough to sustain her life. She groaned, moving her fingertips to her head, at the site of a dull pounding, only to find that the wound had healed already.

She frowned, and attempted to push herself up off of the hay covered floor, but stopped quickly, finding that it sent a sharp pain spreading out of her head, through her entire body.

"I want my lawyer." She groaned quietly, curling up on the floor.

"No lawyers here." She heard the voice of Crys, and she opened her eyes again, rotating until she could see the source. The girl sat calmly in the corner of the cell, red hair dirty and messed up, but eyes lacking none of their spirit. Xanthe lay curled up, with her head on her lap.

"Just elves."

"Where are we?" Tara sighed, looking around as best she could without giving herself a headache.

"The middle ground." Crys muttered darkly. "-Gods- I hate this place..." She rubbed her temples, and glared out the bars at something Tara didn't care to turn around and see.

"What's in... the middle ground?" She asked quietly, forcing herself to sit up despite the fullness in her skull. "Other than us, and probably elves."

"Imagine something, and it's probably here."

"Goblins?" She asked, suddenly perking with hope. If there were goblins, they would doubtlessly help them get to the goblin -king-.

"No, but a portal to them." Cry sighed, "Which we will be finding as soon as we make our escape from this abominable cell..."

"And how are we going to escape?" Tara asked, but the question went unanswered. Xanthe groaned lowly as she began to wake. All human eyes fell to the girl as she sat up away from Crys, and stretched her arms out lazily. She looked around, seeming perplexed by their location before she saw Tara, and threw herself at her.

"TARA!" She cried out in glee. "Tara! You're okay!"

Tara blinked with surprise, but accepted the affection willingly. "Yeah. I'm okay." She glanced in Crys's general direction, and then back out the bars to ensure that no elves were listening.

"If we can find a mirror, we can get out of here." She stated lowly.

"A mirror!" Crys retorted, "Do you know how rare a mirror -is- here!" She took Tara's blank (and frankly offended) gaze as a no, and sighed. "I doubt we'll find a mirror. We're better off setting out for the portal."

Tara sighed in irritation. That meant that all of her hard work meant nothing.

"But," Crys went on, "This also means that the Goblin King can get here and rescue fair damsel in distress."

Said damsel in distress glared hard as Xanthe parted herself from her, and started wandering about the cell in boredom. "What's that supposed to mean!" Tara demanded, only glaring harder as the woman laughed at her. "Okay. Yeah. Whatever. I'm just -dying- for him to save me and bring me back to my life of slavery."

Crys could have responded, but found laughing more enjoyable at the moment.

"What!" Tara demanded hotly, crossing her arms over her chest and rising (albeit wobbly) to her feet. Crys's neglection to answer just enraged her more, and soon she was shrieking at the girl in a full blown rant.

That's when Crys found it wise to speak up.

"Shut up for a minute." She ordered, holding up a hand. Instinctively Tara obeyed, and then glared daggers at her for the fact. She opened her mouth to start screaming again, but Crys pointed in Xanthe's direction.

There in the the corner, Xanthe was playing with a cat that'd appeared out of no where. She stroked her small hand down it's silky fur, even as she was watched. The cat; Orange, brown, and black striped; leaned against her easily, purring with contentment.

"They don't have cats here." Crys murmured under her breath, glancing toward Tara. "She must have summoned it here some how."

"That's ridiculous." Tara responded just as quietly, but all conviction was dead from her voice.

Xanthe looked over as Tara fell back to sitting on the floor, and watched her stare at her in apparent awe. "What?" She asked curiously, pulling the cat so it was more completely on her lap.

"Where did the cat come from, love?" Tara spoke up, tilting her head at the child in wonder.

"Oh." Xanthe murmured, looking down at the cat. "I just called her, and she came."

Tara and Crys exchanged meaningful glances. An entire conversation passed with just one look, and then they looked forward again. Xanthe's newfound summoning ability could come in handy.

"Can you call something else?" Crys questioned delicately as she ran her fingernail along the rough surface of the floor she sat on. "Say... a crow?" She glanced outside at the empty room, or more pointedly the keys left unattended on the table. A parot would have been more smart, and thus fitting to rescue the keys, but it wouldn't have fit between the bars.

"I have to know where the animal is." Xanthe pouted.

Her elders formed an 'oh', but no sound came from their lips.

Tara frowned, and turned to stare at the keys. They had to get out -some how-! This cell was driving her insane!

"Anamaria can get them though." Xanthe stated, motioning toward the keys. "She's a very smart kitty. Would you like her to try?"

Tara doubted very much that a cat could squeeze through the bars, grab the keys, and come back but it was worth a chance. She nodded her approval, as did Crys, and Xanthe kissed the top of the full grown cats head before setting it loose. The cat was the most agile cat Tara had ever seen. It ducked through the bars with what appeared to be ease, and looked left and right before leaping onto the old, worn table. She took up the keys with her teeth, and repeated the process in reverse to go back.

She dropped the keys off at Xanthe's feet, and was rewarded with a thorough petting.

Tara stared at the feline race with a whole new appreciation.

Crys, on the other hand, didn't take more than two minutes to snatch up the keys and run to the cell door. With a quiet click it was open, and she was urging the other two to stand so they could leave.

In moments they were at the door of what appeared to be a dining room, the kitten purring in Xanthe's arms as Tara stared ahead in wait for an opportunity to cut across, and Crys stared back to make sure they weren't caught.

The dining room was packed, and Tara was beginning to doubt the elves, and what appeared to be trolls, would ever finish eating.

The sight was gruesome. The elves ate with some composure, but the trolls scattered amongst them did not. They were huge, hulking beings with little need for grace. They slammed their snouted mouth onto the plate to eat their meat while the elves cut theirs into neat little squares. There were no cups for the trolls, but bowls twice the size of a doggie bowl, filled with water. And their skin was the most disgusting thing Tara had ever seen-- diharrea(sp) green, scaled, with patches of flesh hanging off.

Under normal circomstances it would have worried Tara that the cat was purring as they were trying to sneak out of what appeared to be a jail house, but the trolls were so loud that -she- couldn't hear the cat-- nevermind them. Besides: She couldn't see any ears on them.

The elves were another story: Known for their wonderful hearing. But that didn't cross her mind at the moment. She just wanted out.

"C'mon..." She growled under her breath, "Stop scarfing down your food already!"

"Shut up." Crys growled quietly, "Unless you want them to hear you."

"Can you not hear them? They're louder than hell!"

"And Elves have super hearing, so shut up."

Tara could have argued, but she decided not to. Instead, she ducked out of the way as the dining room suddenly began to empty (as did the others). They watched as the elves and trolls filed past them without a glance, and then made a run for the door in the middle of the dining room wall.

The world outside was-- in a word-- unreal. Tara was surprised that the trees weren't actually made of cotton candy (they looked as if they might have been) and that the streets weren't paved with gingerbread. It was completed otherwise with various other candies decorating the road.

Just the aura of the place made her shudder. It was bright-- a little too bright for her tastes and with an underlying darkness. A venom that comes sweetly.

"Tara, look!" Xanthe cried out, pointing to a spot behind the hard candy bushes. Her aunt blinked, and turned in the direction the child had pointed, and a wave of relief came over her as she spotted Jareth among the pink and green.

"No!" Crys protested, grasping ahold of Tara's arm before she could so much as think of running off after him. "Look closer! Something's wrong! Something's missing!"

Althought irritated, Tara did as she was told, examining the awaiting king from a distance. He was just as tall as ever, and his white blonde hair was wild. He was dressed more practically than usual, but Tara could understand that, given their surroundings. His cream colored trousers were tucked into neat black boots, and his forest green tunic was cut in a long triangle down the front to reveal the paralyzing pale chest beneath.

Indeed, however, something was missing: For the pendant that served as his crest no longer rested on that chest, and Tara knew the goblin king would never in his life surrender that pendant, or take it off for any other reason.

"It's an illusion!" She cried out rather suddenly as she yanked her arm away from the girl who held it and pushed Xanthe away from him a few more paces. She looked around wildly for a weapon as right before Crysandras eyes he morphed into a simple elf, long in hair and long in ear.

With a shriek the cat lept out of Xanthes arms at the elf, fur bristling and claws out.

Streaks of red marred the elf's perfect pale skin as it latched onto his face with said claws, and began stripping away skin and flesh. Tara shot forward as he cried out in pain and horror at the chaos being wraught upon his appearance. With a quick movement, Tara tore off a piece of her crimson skirt and gagged him with the fabric, terrified that he may alert the other elves to their disappearance.

She sent a meaningful glance at Crys, who took it and whirled around to stare at the door. She narrowed her eyes, and paled as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming their way.

"C'mon!" She cried out, breaking the strained silence. She took Xanthe's hand and took off like a shot, trusting Tara to be old enough to follow on her own-- and follow she did.

Footstep after footstep they ran for their lives, not trusting themselves to take a breath, not trusting the elves stampeding behind them to wait.

"NO!" Tara gasped as she tripped on a root of licorice that hadn't been there before, and fell headfirst to the ground. She felt the world spin around her for a minute before the sound of the coming trolls ripped her to her feet.

"TARA!" Xanthe shrieked, writhing against her caretaker to go back to her aunt, but it was no use. Crys had no intentions to let the child run back into harms way, and she made such farely obvious as she picked the little girl up, and continued to run.

"THERE SHE IS!" The damsel in question heard an outraged elf roar. "THE OTHERS CAN'T BE FAR OFF! ON, MEN!"

"TARA!" Xanthe cried out again, but was powerless as she slipped in something gooey.

With a yelp she fell into it, and was powerless to get up as tendrils of what would be chewed bubble gum wrapped around her limbs, trapping her.

"XANTHE!" She screamed as the elves merely lept over her. "XANTHE, GO! GO!"

"WE'LL COME BACK!" Crysandra pledged, and darted out of sight.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **_Hello all! I have finally escaped my problems with the whole 'not being able to write' thing, and HERE IS WHAT I'VE CRANKED UP FOR YOU!_

_Hope it's good enough. ;; I know it's short..._

_But... Review anyway?_

_Please?_

_THANKS IN ADVANCE!_

_((Oh yeah. And the Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Unfortunately. But everything in this chappy does... well, accept for the doppleganger. That's an old concept. But-- ANYWAYS...))_


	15. Candy Land Of Slime

Chapter Fifteen

"You're not getting anything out of me." Tara grit through her teeth for what seemed like the millionth time today. The elves simply wouldn't accept that she didn't know where Crysandra and Xanthe had gone and had sworn to continue whipping until she told them. "Never, never, never."

A man of tall structure and pointed ears leaned casually against the sticky white rock of something that she'd been chained to. The sweet smell of some treat with far too much sugar was almost worse than the scratches lining her back. They glared at each other as words almost as sweet as the torture device slipped away from the elven mouth, but Tara merely turned a deaf ear. Even if she had known where her beloved had escaped to, she would never have told him-- no matter what they did to her.

"I'm sure Jareth..." Tara's eyes focused as she heard the name, and she forced herself to resist the urge to protest its use. "...wouldn't wish you to put yourself in pains way just to be heroic--"

"What makes you think he would care!" She bit, eyes narrowing at him in fury, "He cares nothing more for me than any of you do you-- you-- long legged, hearing impared BEAST!"

A mere grin met what was to be an insult as he backed away from her and turned to his two elven comanions. "Our guest believes us to be beasts." He purred, ice blue gaze flickering over them. "Show her to the facility, would you?"

The elves unchained her wrists and pulled her with them away from the star mint path. She did not struggle, but she did glance behind at the only elf that had spoken.

"I will kill you." She swore, eyes fierce despite the crimson streaks across her back in all directions. "Maybe not today, but tomorrow. No matter where you hide, no matter what you do to me, or for me, I will kill you. Tomorrow always comes."

Crys glanced over at six year old Xanthe as she worked at stacking candy cane shafts together and trying to think of how she'd catch it aflame. The nights in the Middle Ground were cold, and the sun was setting far too quickly for her liking. She sighed, and looked back at the stripes of red and white.

"I want Tara." Xanthe murmured for the millionth time, standing once more to make sure her aunt hadn't escaped and was running toward them. There was no one.

"I know, sweet heart." The older girl sighed as she gave up, and collapsed by the heap of candy. "But we can't go for her yet. They're still looking for us."

"I don't care. I want Tara." The pure one protested.

Crys shook her head helplessly and poked at the red of the candy cane with a long, chipped fingernail. Despite the pastels around them, everything looked so dark. They were caught in the middle of a war that she couldn't control, and there was nothing she could do to get them out. Besides that, the elves had one of them, and the younger would never leave without her. Not willingly.

"Now would be a good time to show up, Goblin King." She whispered, and let her head drop to her knees. As silent sobs escaped her, Xanthe crawled to her side.

"Crys?" She cooed hopefully.

Crysandra shook her head, and then raised it. "No. We're not giving up." she gave the bundle of candy one last poke, and it burst aflame.

Somewhere in her dream world, Tara could see the Goblin king on his balconey of iron and onyx. Even without a crown upon his head, or gold laced in his tunic he stood tall, ivory hair waved softly, wildly in what little a breeze there was. He resembled an elf in his height, but that was where simularity ended. So very strong, and so very real despite the illusion, he was like nothing she had seen here in dungeons of powder and licorice that left trails of slime to infect the wounds their lashings left.

She took a step toward her king, and reached out as he turned. He offered her a faint smile, and took her hand in his, pulling her into his arms with the gentlest of tugs. She stared into his eyes of green and steel, savoring the feel of the tingle in her neck where he had bitten her in a time that seemed so distant now.

"Where are you, Goblin King?" she whispered, voice sounding awkward to her. He placed a slender finger to her lips, and watched as she changed around it, lips deepening to the crimson of blood, hair becoming just as wild as his and crowned by a tiara of silver leaves, and a gown of black and green slipping over her desirable form.

"I am here." He purred, replacing his finger with his lips for only the briefest of moments. "And soon, you will be as well."

She looked uncertainly over the edge of the balconey, and down on the goblins continuing to run their day to day lives. The sky swirled purple and gold, and the people of the city beyond the labyrinth were just a fog. "But I cannot escape." She murmured, emerald gaze flickering back to the hero at her side. "Not on my own."

"You need not escape." He assured her tenderly, fingertips grazing over the curve of her pale cheek. "They will release you in time."

"My lord wishes to make a trade." Stated a familiar brown haired fae as he brushed an elf away from him. Damien turned his gaze toward who appeared to be in charge, a colder looking elf atop a throne. This world of glitter and sweetness drove him absolutely batty, but he had been given an order and he had no intentions of ignoring it.

"Adriana DeLearté for one of your own."

The elf lifted a neatly trimmed eyebrow. "One of our own?" He repeated snidely, "Just 'who of our own' do you have to deliver, little fae?"

"Crysandra Belli, for one, but she is not who we offer." Damien purred, "I am sure you are aware of the... hostilities between vampires, and elves. My liege has heard word from the kingdom of the vampires that Kayos has taken your dear Xana as his own. We can rescue her if you cease the attacks upon the goblin kingdom and release Adriana to us."

The elf responded better than Damien expected. "That-- That-- monster took my sister!" He cried loudly, rising to his feet, and attempting to glare the fae down. "Well-- RESCUE HER!"

"We will, your highness," Damien bowed to the elf, "But we will be needing Adriana in return."

Silence met the repitition of the request and the young fae almost feared that he would be denied, but finally the elf grudgingly gave up his claim. "She's in the room behind me. Take her if you will."

When Tara saw the fae walk into the room, she thought for a moment that she was hallucinating. Surely, so soon after such a confusing dream, a messenger for the goblin king couldn't be there-- but he was.

"Damien!" She cried, pulling at the sticky chains looped around her wrists. "What are you--" Suddenly she realized that he may have indeed snuck in to rescue her, and she quietted, peering past him at the door. "If you snuck in here, I think I just blew your cover..."

He laughed as he approached her, dagger in hand. "I didn't sneak here, my lady." He stated, "A respectable fae never sneaks." With a quick motion one of her wrists was free from the disgusting substance, and then the other wrist. "I have just negotiated your release. You will be brought back to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City shortly. The king awaits your arrival eagerly."

Tara stared at him before looking down to look over the damage on her wrists. It was minimal, but the green goo left on her skin made it look so much worse.

"How did you..." She asked hesitantly as she looked up, "...negotiate my release?"

"A bit of a lie." He admitted quietly. "I told the leader that his sister has been abducted by a vampire. If he finds that it is the Goblin Kingdom that has actually abducted her... well, it will be the beginning of the first Great war the underground has ever seen. I warned the king of the risks, but..."

"He lives for risks." Tara sighed, pursing her lips in thought. "Well, we should go."

Damien nodded in agreement, and led her out of the building, back to the star mint path where a carriage, hung with the finest of silks, and drawn by two huge black wolves.

"Wha--!" Tara cried out in shock, seeing the beasts, and backing instinctively away from them. Damien glanced at her, and then followed her gaze with a small grin. "They are the finest of the kings Royal guard. The first defense in the case of an attack, and the most powerful. There are twenty two more at the castle, though it's not surprising that you haven't run into them. Their chambers are locked quite securely."

Tara nodded a little, "I see." She stated, and frowned, "But why are they -here-!"

Damien laughed outright at that, and shook his head. Not bothering to answer at first, he swung the door of the carriage open to allow her entrance. "I'm sure you've noted that the king has taken quite an interest in you. Your safety is of the utmost importance."

The ride to the portal that would lead them to the Underground was a pleasant one, despite the lack of interesting scenery. Despite his effort to remain politically correct at all times, Damien made good conversation. The wolves pulled the carriage almost effortlessly, and it rode smoothly over the terrain of candy. Though they made good time, it was twilight when they came to the gigantic mirror that would serve as a portal to another world. The moon glittered off of Damien as they walked up to it, and Tara stared up at it in unmasked fascination.

"So this is what takes people between dimensions." She marveled, reaching out and touching the cool glass with her fingertips. She watched as it rippled away from her in great waves of silver.

"I hope Xanthe and Crys made it here safely..." She whispered.

"What was that, My lady?" Damien asked politely.

Tara turned back around to give him a reassuring smile. "Nothing." She assured him, and glanced back at the glass. "Where will this take us?

Damien didn't look so sure that it had been 'nothing' at all, but he answered the question all the same.

"To the outskirts of the Labryinth." He explained. "From there we will have to make our way by foot to the Goblin City at the center, but there is nothing to fear: I know the way like I know my way through the castle itself, and the wolfines will be with us."

Tara nodded, and stared at the silver for a moment, before looking down at the glittering substance that appeared to be snow beneath her. Xanthe and Crys weren't safe. She could feel it. But what was there that she could do, but maybe appeal to the king of the Underground to rescue them... wherever they may be.

"My lady?" Damien asked, concerned. "What is troubling you?"

Albeit shaky, Tara gave him yet another believable smile. "Nothing." She assured him warmly. "Come. Let us return to his highness."

Frowning still, Damien nodded, and walked up to the mirror. He slipped his hand through it, and then another hand. Slowly, he pulled the two hands apart, and then jerked them out, destroying the shiny silver altogether, and revealing the image of a far away Labyrinth, so dark now.

"I have a question." Tara announced.

Looking at her, Damien crossed his arms in wait for said question.

"Why doesn't Jareth just teleport us to the castle?"

Damien sighed, and shook his head, muttering something about that being a question for the king, and not himself. She sighed as well with the vague answer, but accepted it, stepping readily through the portal.

"I will do what I have to." She thought bitterly, "They can't have Xanthe."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**_ Sorry for the long wait. It seems that writers block is fond of me lately, plus I was away from my computer for quite some time. In any case, here's (the short)chapter fifteen. Review, please!_

_I don't care if you're telling me that my writing sucks and should be recorded in the Guiness Book of World Records for being the most pathetic-- just review!_

_Please?_


	16. Castle Beyond The Goblin City

**Authors Notes:**_ Hi everybody! I just wanted to apologize for not updating in such a long time. My internet broke down, and then I hit a deadly bout of depression and writers block, but I'm back now (I think). I should be updating more regularly, now that I remember my battle plan for this fic. If you read this-- thankyou, and if not-- shame on you.  
Luv you all!  
Thanks again, and as always: Please review!  
_

Chapter Sixteen

Tara stared over the labyrinth in silence, letting herself absorb the task ahead of her with less than fear in her eyes. "It's so big..." She murmured to no one in particular as Damien worked at releasing the oversized wolves.

"It is." The fae agreed, hooking the carriage to a bent and whithered tree. "But never fear, my lady. I know these paths like you know the halls of the goblin castle, and as I stated, we are well guarded with the wolves with us."

Tara sighed, and shook her head, glancing at him. She didn't know the halls of the goblin castle very well. "I'm not afraid." She informed him anyway. Turning her gaze back toward hike at hand, she let the cool breeze flow through her hair, catching her skirt and pressing it against her legs. "There is nothing that can frighten me now."

For a moment Damien looked close to comforting her, but seemed to think better of it. He started down the hill at a surprisingly brisk pace for a fae who expected a human to keep up with him. Nonetheless, Tara did not complain. She walked behind him with her head held high, ignoring everything around her but maybe for the wolves which, despite her sudden bout of courage, thoroughly terrified her.

The walk to the castle was a long one, and the many turns through walls that apparently didn't really exist made Tara dizzy. She continued to follow, regardless, until finally she collapsed near the foot of a rather large statue, in the middle of an elegant garden.

"What is it!" Damien cried in concern, running to his human charge's side, and staring into her face.

"So...tired..." Tara hissed out, groaning with the effort of it. "Please... lets rest?"

The fae nodded, and half lifted her into his arms to set her sitting on the ledge that held the stone mammoth off the ground. "We're almost there." He reassured her as he sat beside her, and looked over the wolves of the darkest black in the Labyrinth. "We're in the city garden, now. Just north of us is the city itself, and then the castle.

Tara glared at him, but it wasn't at him that she meant to communicate her anger with-- it was his master. "If we're so damned close, then why doesn't Jareth come out and meet us?

"He is on his way, my lady." He pled, "Please do not be angry with his highness-- his powers have been severely restricted, but he is doing the best he can for you. He watched you all during your absense, and swore that if you came to any danger that he would break all laws to get to you. Of course, he couldn't do that. We had to lock him in the equivalent of a magic proof room to stop him. So please... do not be upset with him because of his temporary weakness. If he could be here, I'm sure he would, and as it is I'm sure he is rushing to your side."

"Touching." Growled a familiar voice, and Tara froze in her spot. She knew that voice. She dreaded and loved that voice at the same time.

She turned slowly around, only to see Jareth standing behind her beside the statue at her back. Despite herself, she rose her eyes to meet his. There was something there, within the eyes of the man she so feared-- something reassuring, something to thrilling, something she couldn't fight.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had thrown herself into his arms, clinging despirately to his neck.

Jareth stood there, more confused than anything, for a moment. It didn't take him long to figure out what he was supposed to do, however, and soon his arms found their place comfortingly around her waist as he murmured sweet nothings that he knew he had no right to speak to a now weeping girl.

Damien calmly watched the scene, sighing with near disapproval as his lord ran slim, long fingers through the mane of black hair of his prize. Not once had he seen his lord keep a 'love' interest around for longer than a few years-- and to a fae, that might as well have been a week. But not once, either, had he held one as they cried; had he been forced in to restraints because of his need to rescue one of such women.

That was why he encouraged the relationship.

Suddenly, Tara threw herself from the king, only to sit at the foot of the statue again, face redder than a strawberry.

"Sorry." She muttered, staring at her knees, and pushing hair awkwardly out of her face before attempting to scrub away the remaining tear stains. She went silent as Jareth stared at her in total confusion. The woman was a mystery still... but they didn't have time to contemplate her wonders.

"Come." He commanded, lifting her up by her arm, and pulling her toward the black wolves, and thus the castle.

Damien stood to protest that she was too weak to continue yet, but before he could, Jareth had lifted the girl up entirely, and set her on top of the largest, and most powerful of the wolves. He watched in awe as she settled on the beast that not so long ago she had been terrified of, resting her cheek on his large neck, and wrapping her arms around such neck as if she was a child clinging to a teddy bear.

What amazed the dark haired fae more than the womans sudden attatchment to the creature, was the creatures affectionate attatchment to her. Under normal circomstances, anyone placed on that particular wolves back would have been on the ground, strewn into pieces in moments, but not Tara.

For Tara the wolf was still, but for the turn of his great head to ensure her stability.

Jareth leaned down to pat the wolf on his head, and whisper his destination-- the castle. Soon the wolf was off, guarded on all sides by at least one of his lesser companions.

"How...?" Damien wondered aloud, staring at his king.

"Did I force her to relax on the wolf? You and I both know the vast expanse of my magic." Jareth answered calmly, watching the wolves leave as if he were a man taken from all he ever loved. He sighed as they escaped his impressive eye sight, and started off to follow them.

"But why did Minionbane allow it?"

Jareth shook his head. "I do not have all the answers, Damien." he sighed, "The girl is like no other. That is the closest to an answer I can give."

He didn't wait for Damien to follow him. He walked toward the castle in silence.

Tara would reach the castle soon, safely, and the goblins would protect her from all evils. The cost of getting her there would be paid, and with her on the side of the Underground, the elves would be a small threat, if a threat at all.

Tara reached the Castle Beyond the Goblin City safely. It had occured to her long before she reached the towering structure what the creature she was riding on -was- but it had yet to harm her, at least, and she doubted she could get off of it anyway.

By the time they reached the castle, she had become quite comfortable with the animal.

"Lady Tara!" The familiar Stogblende cried out as the wolves made their way into their pen, far from the parts of the castle she had ever visitted. Protectively, the wolves gathered around the side of Minionbane that the little goblin was approaching, and he backed up swiftly.

"It's alright!" Tara tried to calm them, sitting up as well as she could on the wolf whos size reminded her more of a horse than anything else. "It's alright! He's good!"

As if on command, the wolves shied away from the goblin, and soon he was rushing to her side, and helping her dismount the creature that had kept her safe for such a time. She gave the wolf a farewell pat on his massive head, which he recieved with an affectionate lick at her hand before Stogblende managed to pull her into the inner castle.

"Xanthe and Crysandra." She questioned as she was dragged rushing through the hall, "Are they here!"

"No, m'lady!" The goblin huffed.

By the time they reached their destination (her room), Tara was out of breath. She slumped against the door that separated it from the rest of the castle, trying despirately to catch her breath.

"The king will be here at any minute!" Three suddenly appearing goblins cried, wiping off their hands on their aprons furiously.

Tara gasped as suddenly all three were upon her, measuring, and checking, and cleaning. She made a frantic move for the door-- all of this was too much so soon-- but it was already closed, and Stogblende was already gone.

"GET OFF OF ME!" She commanded suddenly, and the goblins scattered as if one of them had been hit. She glared around at them, pushing herself into a corner as far away from them as she could manage. "What's WRONG with you! Are you all mad!"

"We just want you to look presentable for the king, m'lady!" One of them defended, looking close to tears.

"I don't want to look presentable!" Tara nearly shrieked, "I've just made my way through the Labyrinth, after being rescued from being tortured by ELVES! I don't want makeup, I want sleep! GET OUT!"

The goblins looked hurt, but she was too far gone to care about that now. They left, just as they were ordered, and she made her way to her bed. She threw herself down on it, curled up over the covers, and fell into an instant sleep.

Crys looked over the child sleeping with her head against her chest in thought. The stinking flames of the stack of candy canes had long gone out, and though it was bitter cold, she said good riddance to them. She wished tiredly for some sign of Tara so that they may escape-- or even better, a sign of the world from whence she came. How had she gotten caught up in all of this? She had always been one to understand the workings of foreign worlds, of opposite dimensions, but now she was caught up in more than that: She was caught up in a war.

She glanced down again at the child, sleeping so soundly. For a moment she considered leaving without Tara. Starting off while the girl was asleep so that there would be no protests. But she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't just leave Tara in a place even worse than where she herself was, now.

She cast her gaze to the stars and murmured some prayer that no one would hear. She was doomed. They all were, and there was nothing that anyone could do. The elves had surely won.

* * *

**REAL Authors Notes:** _Yep, that's chapter sixteen, I believe. I know it's short, but at least I cranked out something._

_Please review!_

_Luv you all!_

_Bye! _


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